The Klaine Trap
by BlaineWarbler
Summary: When their estranged parents drop the D word, Riley and her brother Jonathan pull out all the stops to save their parents' 20-year marriage, and the teens grow closer as a family along the way. (It's semi-celebrity daddy!Klaine. The title is a lot fluffier than the story, until maybe part 3. Also contains varying levels of Seblaine and Kadam.)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: The song Blaine sings in this chapter is "Love On My Side" by Lost In The Trees.

* * *

Jonathan wished he could be out enjoying "the college experience" as his head hovered over his textbook. Why would he even take _Cross-disciplinary Study of Modern and Ancient Languages?_ He wasn't even a linguistics major! Next time, he reminded himself, when signing up for classes, "because it looks interesting" would _not_ be valid reason to take a course. Stick to gen ed requirements next term, idiot, he quietly reprimanded.

Across his desk, Jon's new iSonic screen pulsed with a red light, but then quickly changed to encompass a variety of rainbow colors. With an eye-roll he reminded himself to program specific colors into his phone app for different individuals on his contact list; the pocket-sized computer was currently only set to display a pride rainbow for anyone in his family who called or messaged him. And he had a lot of family, extended or otherwise. How good was color-messaging technology when he didn't use it?

Jon sighed and reached across the desk to see who was contacting him. Grandpa got bored on Sunday nights without his football buddy around. He hated having to move to New York after pretty much living his whole life in Lima, but Jon knew he also loved being closer to his son and his grand-kids.

_Maybe I can sneak over…No._ He shook his head. Just because he went to school in the city didn't mean he needed to take a nighttime journey to Queens. With his luck, by the time he'd get to his Grandfather's house, Burt would already be asleep. Yeah, no. Not with his exam tomorrow.

But it wasn't Grandpa. It was Riley. Jonathan's brows furrowed. It wasn't like he and his sister weren't close, but she still hadn't forgiven him for beating up her douchey boyfriend (now ex-boyfriend, thankfully) a couple months ago before he left for college. He barely touched the guy, but apparently, his sister could hold a grudge better than anyone ever on the face of the planet. Except for maybe Auntie Tana. Unfortunately for Jonathan and anyone else who decided to get on Riley's bad side, she had the same relentless grudge-holding power encoded in her genes.

He unlocked his computer screen and saw her message immediately—a text from her phone.

_I know we're not talking and as much as I'd like to continue that trend to teach you a lesson on manners and not beating up people's boyfriend's like some psychopathic overprotective maniac of an older brother, I really need your help right now. Shit's going down. - R_

Now Jonathan was even more confused, and worried atop it all. Why couldn't it just have been Grandpa with news of who won the game?

_Please don't tell me they're at it again. Please, Ri. - J_

_I wish I could. Papa dropped me off and I went to my room. There's raised voices. It's like a bad cliché, but I'm actually really sad and confused and they've like, never just *yelled* at each other like this before! At least, not with me around. :( - R_

_Ri, I'm so sorry, I wish there was something I can do. :(- J_

_Can't you come home and just like, stop this from happening? - R_

_No, I can't. I'm studying for a test. And even if I did and I could somehow help the situation at all—which I probably can't, btw, by the time I get there it'll all be over and Pop will be gone. What do you want me to do? - J_

_Forget it, it was stupid to ask. Go on and do your homework. - R_

The words were far less icy than the voice that accompanied them in his head. But there really was nothing he could do.

_I really am sorry you have to deal with this, though. #BigBrotherFail - J_

_Yeah, yeah…love you anyway, idiot. - R_

_BTW, we're still beefin' . Also, hashtags and Twitter haven't been relevant since you were born. It's about as outdated as "lol," so please cease being lame immediately. - R_

_lol – J_

_I hate you – R_

_love you too, sis – J_

.

.

.

"Are you coming home tomorrow, sweetheart?"

Jonathan chucked incredulously. "_Dad_, I haven't been at school for a month yet. It's bad enough I went home last weekend. The guys were picking on me about it."

"Picking on you? Why? How?" his Dad asked, a slight edge to his voice Jon was only too happy not to have directed at him. Kurt Hummel could be scary sometimes.

"Not like _that_, Dad. Though they do call me 'daddy's boy.' But they're my friends…"

"And you want to hang out with them," the man replied, completely understanding the situation. "I'm old but I'm not that old. I get it."

Jonathan laughed. "Well, don't act like I'm doing this to get away from you guys, because I'm definitely not. _You_ were the one who told me I should be out making friends."

His dad sighed on the other line. "I guessed I just underestimated your popularity."

"—Dad!" Jon laughed.

"So popular, just like _your father,_" Kurt sighed.

He didn't mean for the comment to hurt his son, but it did. The term was once used sparingly, to indicate lighthearted frustration with his husband (usually paired with an eye-roll and smirk) whenever Papa got an idea in his head Dad didn't find too clever. ("_Your father_ thinks wearing his old Nightbird costume to his office party is good idea.") Whenever things got a little tense, "your father" also made an appearance. ("Tell _your father_ to move his work off the table so I can set it for dinner.")

But for the past several months now, his dad only referred to his estranged husband as "your father," as if the man no longer had anything to do with him. And that's what hurt to hear. Jon never thought he'd miss the day his parents would flirt with each other across the room when one would get home before the other, saying alternately "I missed you, Papi" and "Hi, Daddy." He was ready to barf then—the "darlings" and "beautifuls" were bad enough in his opinion. No parent needed to use the bastardized versions of their kid's pet names to flirt, that was just WEIRD. But now…now he was sick at the thought his parents might never talk like that again.

"I'm sorry, Jonny, I didn't mean it like that," Kurt said, realizing his mistake. "You're very handsome and charismatic and kind and intelligent. You have every right to be in high demand. Can't waste every weekend with your old man…"

"Dad, please."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry."

"And you're _not_ old." Jon tried to laugh, though his thoughts were making it hard to return to their playful banter.

"I'm old, sweetheart. I have wrinkles."

"You're entitled at your age. And—you barely have wrinkles."

"Entitled _at my age_, huh? I'll let that one slide for now, Mr. But thank you. I try. It's probably that new facial scrub Ad—my friend suggested. I'm glad you're not interested in going into fashion because this industry makes me feel awful sometimes."

"I don't think I could anyway," Jon said, hearing the slip-up his Dad quickly buried without a hint of error. "I can't design like you, I can't market, I can't take a picture to save my life, I have no fashion sense despite you and Papa's best efforts, and I think I'm like, six inches too short to be a short model."

"Well…good. You're smart. You belong in academia." Kurt said. "Although, Geraldine from work saw your graduation photo on my desk the other day and was convinced we needed you on our ad campaign for the new line."

"_What?_ Dad! Why didn't you tell me that? I could be famous and get any girl I want! You have to tell me these important things!" Jon joked.

"One, you'd hardly be famous for _one_ ad. Two, you have enough girls for any sane man to concern himself with. Three, you're not modeling because you're too smart for that and modeling is a shallow world. You get enough shallow from your old man being obsessed with attacking laugh-lines and moderating his cheesecake obsession. I want you to eat as much cheesecake as you want and laugh without worrying that it'll all show up in twenty years to haunt you."

Jon smiled, though it quickly faded. He was about to call his dad out—he never cared about laugh-lines or wrinkles or how many pieces of cheesecake were enough when Papa was around. Dad wouldn't be able to get a word in when Papa was kissing him to make him shut up or giving him another slice of cheesecake and pouting when Dad said he couldn't have another bite. Dad always laughed at Papa's expression and ate his dessert anyway.

"Well, don't worry, you sold me. Academia, not modeling. Though I'll never know what my life could have been…" he sighed dramatically and his dad laughed. "Papa stopped by today," Jon said, biting his lip. He wondered if it was a good idea to bring it up.

"Did he."

"We went out for lunch. We actually _did_ go get cheesecake, at that place you love."

"He took you to Two Little Red Hens?" There was something in his dad's curious tone he couldn't put his finger on.

"Yeah."

"That must have been nice." Yes, that was the danger tone, all right.

"Dad—"

"No. And you deserve a break from studying so hard. I just thought I'd offer a dinner-and-movie night at home but I guess you've had enough goofing around today with your father." Wow, he didn't even have to say _I see how it is._

"Please don't be mad that I'm spending time with Papa," Jon said softly after a few long anguishing moments of silence. "I love you both."

"I…Jon. Sweetheart. I'm sorry." After a moment, Kurt added, "I seem to be saying sorry a lot lately."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You're just stressed. Go relax! And I promise I'll come home next weekend and we can have an old Hollywood movie marathon. I know you'd be up for that."

"Uh-huh. Sure thing sweet-talker. What's the catch?"

"_Well_…" Jon drawled. "I kind of need a model to sit for me for my drawing course assignment."

His dad sighed. "Of course you do."

"Don't get too excited…"

"I'm delighted you find me interesting enough to draw, sweetheart. It's just that you're just such a good artist. I'm not really looking forward to seeing you emphasizing the bags under my eyes and shading in the wrinkles."

"Oh my god, Dad, you don't have wrinkles!"

"You didn't even mention the bags!"

"This conversation is over because it's ridiculous!" Jon laughed. "I love you dad."

"I love you too, Jonny."

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. And, I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfor—"

"—No, nope. Stop talking. You're not aloud to apologize. Ever."

Kurt huffed into the phone. "Well, if you're going to be like that."

"I am. Goodnight dad."

"Goodnight kiddo."

.

.

.

"I'm an awful parent," Kurt groaned as he ended his call and fell onto the couch.

"I highly doubt that," Adam responded with his usually glass-half-full smile, but nevertheless looked a bit worried at his friend. "Everything all right?"

"I just said I'm an awful parent. What did you deduce from that statement?"

"All I meant was I'm here if you need to talk."

Kurt groaned and folded his legs up to his chin, leaning his head down on one knee. "Of course you are. Because you're perfect and have no flaws. Unlike me."

"Believe me, Kurt, I have plenty of flaws. And you need to stop being so hard on yourself."

"Easier said than done. I basically just yelled at my kid for spending time with his father. What kind of person does that?"

"A person who is very stressed out. You just made a mistake. It happens to us all. And I'm sure Jon didn't blame you in the slightest."

"He didn't even let me apologize! He's too logical and too nice. I'm glad I have one kid that's justifiably irritated with me. Probably because she has half my genes and I'm my own toughest critic."

Adam shrugged. "She'll come around."

Kurt pulled his legs closer. Maybe if he made himself small enough he could just disappear. "I hope so. Yelling at Blaine the other night in front of her was a bad idea. So stupid. I never thought I'd be one of those parents who'd yell at their spouse in front of their kid. But, here we are," Kurt chucked weakly.

Adam shifted and moved closer on the couch, taking a sip of tea from his mug and putting it down on the coffee table in front of him. "None of this is your fault, Kurt."

"Don't mistakes put people at fault?"

"No," Adam said. "It's about intention. And standing up for yourself and for your family is _never_ a mistake, Kurt. It's always honorable."

Kurt smiled tiredly. "You're nice."

"And _you_ are exhausted and need to make an early night of it."

"Mhm, after one more glass of wine."

"After no more glasses of wine!" Adam laughed. "Get to bed!" he chided playfully, getting up and pulling Kurt off the couch.

"Okay, okay, _Pushy_." Kurt said, getting to his feet and sighing. "You'd better get going too, before Riley gets home."

"What, and not give her a chance to perfect the art of trying to kill me with her eyes?"

"One day it'll work and you'll be sorry you ever joked."

Adam just laughed and patted his friend's shoulder, letting it linger there for a moment. He gave a tight but reassuring smile, and Kurt tried to smile back. "It'll get better," he promised.

"When?" Kurt whispered.

Adam's gaze fell from Kurt's eyes to his mouth, and took a step closer. "Soon," he said softly when he looked into the man's blue eyes again. Kurt was still just as handsome as the day they met. Perhaps more so. Time had treated him well, especially due to many happy years with Blaine, Adam realized. But it had all fallen apart somehow. And though he was incredibly handsome, the signs of stress and heartache had become affixed on his features for so many months. And Adam realized what that felt like. It was a slap in the face when he caught his ex cheating on him five years ago, and the couple broke up. He was a wreck for a solid six months, and Kurt and Blaine were there to hold him together.

It seemed inconceivable that the two would ever part. Adam would not want to wish that unhappiness on his friend. But a thought he hadn't had since Kurt's first year at NYADA emerged recently, when he began to realize that Blaine was taking longer and longer to recognize his mistakes and find his way back to Kurt.

He again thought _If he gave me a chance, I could make him happy._

Kurt closed the distance between them and let Adam bring him into a hug. The embrace was sorely needed. Kurt loved his kids, but their support was mercurial at best. He realized though when a married couple splits it's hardest on the kids, and they become wary of picking sides. He couldn't talk to his father about it. Burt Hummel dragged Blaine Anderson to New York with him so that his cheating ex-boyfriend could spend Christmas Eve ice-skating and singing flirty duets with Kurt. There was no way Burt was going to keep an objective eye on the situation when it came to Kurt giving up the love of his life.

He could call Rachel. His sister-in-law never really cared too much to find out who was actually at fault in a dispute—the person to reach out to her first generally got her undivided attention and support.

But Kurt wasn't ready to hear anything bad about Blaine. Not yet. It would break his heart. If it wasn't broken already.

Adam has always been his good friend and at one time, they could have really been something. He wasn't into the drama or the waterworks or the passionate displays—he was cheery and fun and willing to just sit and listen to Kurt ramble for hours about missing Blaine with a kind smile on his face.

Kurt pulled the taller man closer and let Adam's hands circle around his back. It felt nice. Not right, not perfect, but nice. Something he could let himself have if he wanted.

The other man leaned back out of the embrace and took in his friend's expression. He didn't want to do anything that would upset Kurt.

But when he saw Kurt smiling back with a sad but hopeful expression on his face, Kurt's arms looped around his neck and Kurt's eyes bright with unshed tears, Adam had to take a deep breath. "Kurt…" he whispered, hands curling around the soft fabric of Kurt's sweater. He leaned in—

A door slammed shut and a familiar voice pierced the air with a bright "I'm home, Daddy!" Kurt dropped his hands and jumped away instantly, moving to the coffee table to scoop up their mugs to make like he was cleaning, even though his chances of pulling a fast one on his daughter were slim to none.

"Hi sweety," Kurt called steadily. _A+ acting, Hummel_.

"What's up?" she asked. The girl walked up to the two men, Adam looking a bit sheepish while Kurt kissed the girl on the cheek.

"Oh, nothing," Kurt said, clinking the cups together as he walked back to the kitchen to get rid of them. "You remember my friend Adam, right? He was just stopping by."

Riley smirked at Adam and it sent a shiver down his spine to be scrutinized by the girl in such a way. "Friend Adam, right," she muttered softly, not taking her eyes off the man's.

"Well!" Adam said, taking a deep breath and turning to the kitchen where Kurt was distracting himself with a bowl of gourmet muffins Adam had brought over earlier. "It was good to catch up Kurt, but I had better be getting back to the theater. I'll call you later?"

"Please do," Kurt said honestly, but decided to not walk Adam to the door like he usually would. Not with his daughter monitoring his every move. Adam turned back to smile at Riley.

"And it was good seeing you again, Riley."

She nodded at him politely, but when he moved to leave and her dad turned away, she grabbed his arm. "In case you're curious," she said quietly so that her father could not overhear from the other room. "I'm Team Blaine."

She let go of the man's arm and Adam considered her a moment before deciding the best course of action would be to not instigate. He wanted to tell her that he would never hurt her dad, that it was a delicate situation he was trying to handle like a gentleman and that Kurt deserved every happiness life could give him, whether her father was capable of giving Kurt that or not.

But that's not the sort of thing you tell a sixteen year old girl whose parents are separated.

He smiled genuinely at her again. "Look after your dad for me?" he whispered.

And Riley quirked a half-smile at that and nodded, watching as the man put on his jacket and left.

She looked at the kitchen for a moment and saw her dad compulsively chowing down on huge muffin. "Rut rus rat arout?"

"Daddy, are you sure you wouldn't like a Scooby snack instead?"

Kurt swallowed. "Your wit slays me, dear."

"Yeah, but you love me anyway."

.

.

.

Blaine found himself spending more and more time at his office now that he and Kurt had separated. It used to be that whenever he was at work he was most looking forward to the end of the day and going home. Not that he hated his job, not in the slightest, but he loved Kurt more.

Now when he went to work he just wanted to stay and never leave, even though he got no pleasure from being there. But thought of going home to an empty apartment, no kids, no husband…seemed so unappealing. At least putting in longer hours at work would allow him to be more productive. Sitting in his apartment alone was useless, and sad. And frankly, Blaine Anderson didn't want to think about it.

Because thinking about it would surely open him up to a world of misery he was not yet ready to face—the rest of his awful life without Kurt Hummel in it. Unimaginable. But unfortunately, something Blaine would have to consider soon.

Blaine thinks back to the previous weekend. He had seen both his kids—dropped Riley off on Sunday and got an earful from Kurt who expected them back hours ago. That turned into a debate on whether or not Blaine could keep his word, and in a matter of seconds past hurts were dredged up and hurled at each other.

And when had Blaine allowed their home to become a battleground, anyway?

Blaine sighed, shutting down his computer and making his way to the recording studios area of the building. He was proud of his recording label he'd help found with former Warbler brethren Nick and Jeff, who promptly (but with Blaine's blessing) abandoned the venture once it was off and running to be a part of Artie Abrams' writing team for a comedy show called _The Ensemble_. (Blaine and Kurt watched it every week when it aired. "Watch out for Samantha Greenberg," Artie told them, "She's a Rachel Barbara Berry-esque Broadway diva that will stop at nothing to get to the top. Oh, and Kurt, I think you might enjoy perpetual background talent and stage costume designer Claus, who has big dreams he pushes aside in order to let his best friend Samantha shine. Well, at least until the second season.")

Blaine himself enjoyed a brief career as a performing artist, even taking a leave of absence from his NYADA studies to travel the country once a talent scout found him jumping over Pascal's piano at Call Backs and singing his heart out. The man wanted to sign Blaine on the spot.

He never actually finished his college degree—never needed to, really. He had a good run of ten years on the stage, selling out to crowded arenas and wowing the media with his out-and-proud lifestyle and his professional-yet-fun showmanship. Blaine left on a high note, neither went out with a bang or sizzled out of existence entirely—he just changed the game. And with all the contacts he made from being in the business, deciding to go into music production seemed like the next logical step. By that time, Jonathan was going into the 2nd grade and Riley into kindergarten. It was time to settle down.

Blaine wouldn't have had it any other way.

He loved being a family man. And because of his job, he never had to leave his love of music behind, either. He loved meeting new up-and-coming artists and working with longtime acts he knew from his days dancing ridiculously across a stage. But every now and again he missed making music and the life that went with it.

Singing with Kurt helped with that. For the longest time, they wouldn't go a day without singing (unless Kurt was trying to save his voice the day of a performance, of course).

But Blaine hadn't sung with Kurt in months.

He walked into a sleek black soundproof room with windows lining one of the walls, and picked up one of the studio guitars from the storage rack. Sitting down in the middle of the room, he checked that the guitar was in-tune, closed his eyes, and began to sing.

_"I got love on my side. I got love on my side. I don't want to be blue, so I'll stay true to you. I've got love on my side…"_ he took a breath. In his mind Kurt was there, just behind his shoulder, watching him play and hearing his words. _"Well I got down on one knee and I told ya, that I'd give you my life in this world—"_

Kurt chimed in as he sang, _"yeah we're all gonna get old, and buried in a hole. But my mortal love, I give to you."_ A light flicked on above them, a soft blue light, and they sang together— _"Oh, I got love songs. I got songs that make you cry. I got all the things a man could need, I got to see life with two eyes."_

_"Yes I got all this love on my side,"_ Blaine sang. The guitar was playing a melodic but slightly upbeat tune, but Blaine's heart was heavy as he continued. _"Well a man can get beaten down. And walk around with a scar—"_

_"But if he tries to heal and would never hurt a soul, please give him the strength of your hand,"_ they sang.

Kurt walked around to stand in front of Blaine and smiled softly as they repeated the chorus.

_"Well one day I felt your hand a slippin',"_ Blaine sang, _"and I felt an unease in your heart."_

_"Then the winter killed the spring and it took your love from me,"_ Kurt chimed in, _"and your brown eyes they flew to the dark."_

_"I got love songs,"_ they sang, _"I got songs that make you cry. I got all the things a man could need, I got to see life with two eyes. You told me that our love, that it was not enough. I'd never heard someone say love was not enough."_

_"No,"_ Blaine sang, playing the final notes of the song and opening up his screwed shut eyes to see the room as unremarkable and Kurt-less ever._"I'd never heard someone say love was not enough."_

He sat there for a half-hour afterward, fiddling with his iSonic, his finger hovering over Kurt's name. He nearly called four times.

"There you are, killer. Keeping sharp?"

Blaine didn't even look up at the man in the doorway. He smiled tightly and moved to put the guitar away. "Just doing a little venting," Blaine said as he rested the guitar back in its case.

"Well, I'm here if you need to let out a little steam."

Blaine laughed dryly. Sebastian Smythe would probably never learn the words "no thanks." It wasn't even worth saying them now.

"How about you and I go out tonight, get a few drinks, go dancing—just like the old days?"

"Thanks, but the old days are the old days for a reason. And I don't feel like doing much but falling into bed."

"That works for me, too," Sebastian said. Blaine rolled his eyes. "Listen, I get it, Blainers. You're lonely and irritable, and I'm an easy target for your grief right now, and because we're friends I'll let it slide. It's been a rough few months for you. But it's not going to get any better snapping at me and cutting yourself off from your friends and the rest of the world. So you tell me—what will put a smile back on that handsome face?"

"Nothing," Blaine sighed, pushing past Sebastian and heading back down the hall to his office.

"Don't be like that, Blaine. Shutting down is terrible for guys like us."

Blaine paused. "Guys like us?"

"We need constant attention and affection. And when we pull away from the rest of the world, it's never a good thing. Admit it or not, we need each other."

Blaine bit his lip for a moment, and Sebastian could see him considering. "I appreciate your help, Sebastian. Really I do. But I'm just tired, and I think I'm gonna head home."

The shorter man turned and started down a near empty hallway back to the office wing. "Anderson," Sebastian called to him. Blaine turned around. "You have my number. Feel free to use it. I'll be whatever you need me to be."

Blaine sighed. "Why do you care so much about me, Sebastian?"

Sebastian smiled. "I thought it was obvious." He paused for a moment, confusion raking over Blaine's face. "We're friends, dummy." When Blaine didn't respond, he continued. "I know it seems like I live to tease you, and maybe that's true. It's your own fault for letting me." Blaine scoffed at that but Sebastian raised a hand and continued. "It's not a crime to feel wanted by someone, no matter how much you try and punish yourself for it. It's human. And listen, not many people put up with my bullshit, Blaine. But you're one of them and that means something to me. Sycophantic business associates and ass-kissers I have plenty of. There's only one Blaine Anderson. Just don't forget you deserve to be happy."

.

.

.

Three weeks later, Blaine and Kurt decided to meet at Blaine's apartment and go over some things before the kids arrived that afternoon. They talked quietly and they didn't speak much, but a resigned, passive kind of calm filled the air and washed over the both of them, and it was easier than either of them thought it would be.

Riley and Jonathan met up outside their Papa's apartment building and gave each other curious looks. They'd been discussing that whole morning what this meet-up could mean for their family and while they weren't holding their breath for a happy ending, they were hopeful this would at least be a step in the right direction. I mean, both Kurt and Blaine were alone in the same location for more than a couple hours and ostensibly not arguing—if that wasn't a positive step forward, the siblings weren't sure what was.

They found their Dad and Pop drinking coffee and talking softly on the couch when Jonathan knocked on the door to announce himself and entered the apartment. Riley tried to control her eyes bugging out a little with the image in front of her—she'd been at Ground Zero for the last major blow-up and this was almost a complete-180.

Jonathan found the scene familiar-looking but completely fabricated. There was still so much distance between them, his Dad looked too stiff and his Papa too melancholy (though he tried to hide it with a smile.) It was obviously planned out—that they should be found like this, amicable and at peace, when Jonathan could see that was far from the truth. It didn't make him happy, only anxious and somewhat irritated that his parents believed this charade would be something their kids would enjoy.

"Hi Daddy, Hi Papa," Riley said.

"Hey guys!" Blaine said with false cheer in his voice. "Your dad and I were thinking about ordering in some lunch. What are we all up for?"

Riley perked up a bit at that. Family get-together—check. Parents not yelling at each other and somewhat acting normal—check. Eating delicious food—um, _so_ check. She grinned and hopped over to the couch, sitting cross-legged on the cushions and announcing she wanted Chinese—no, wait!—Italian—no, hold on!—Mexican.

"Jonny?" Blaine asked.

Jon looked at him, his father's face pleading with Jon to make this easy and simple, then to his Dad, who was looking down into his coffee and swirling the mocha to the surface. His shoulders looked tight and their eyes did not meet his son's when he looked up and smiled reassuringly at him.

"I'm not hungry."

Blaine bit his lip, but then said, "Well, your sister seems to want an international spread, so maybe you'll see something you like once we order."

"I'll go order a bunch of everything," Kurt said with a smile, and pulled out his phone, walking down the hall to make the delivery orders.

After a moment of small-talk with his Papa and Riley, Jon excused himself to the restroom. He walked down the hall and found his father's open bedroom door and, peeking inside, saw his Dad sitting on the edge of the bed, arms crossed protectively over his chest and staring off into space.

Jonathan knocked on the door frame and Kurt slowly looked up at him with a shy smile. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Everything okay, Dad?"

"Fine," Kurt said, barely above a whisper.

Jon looked at him another moment and then moved into the room and closed the door behind him. He walked over to his dad and without explanation pulled him into a hug.

Kurt held his son close and though he didn't want or expect it to happen, he knew that Jonathan had just chosen a side.

He clung to the boy and tried not to break down in tears, made all the more difficult by his son rubbing his back soothingly and saying in a soft voice, "it's okay, it's okay…" But then Kurt realized he'd been crying on Jon's shoulder this whole time. "It's okay. Please tell me? Shh, it's okay…"

It felt so wrong to Kurt, that Jonathan should have to be the one to calm him down, and not the reverse. And even if this wasn't his son holding him now, Kurt Hummel doesn't willingly show his weaknesses to anyone. Especially not the people he loves most.

But Jon was a lifeline, and Kurt held on for all the life he had left.

Could he really just say it? No. It would be unfair—to Jon, to Blaine. They agreed they wouldn't try to pit the children against either of them. That it was best to stay level-headed with the whole thing. That, if they played it cool, they could ease the kids through it and, maybe, themselves as well. But that's not what happened.

Kurt held on tighter and Jon repeated his refrain. He didn't know how to help his dad, but this felt like something he could do. If he could only get his dad to open up and tell him—

He thought he misheard at first, just a murmur of speech. But there it was again—"He's leaving me," Kurt breathed though a muffled sob. "I love him, but he's leaving me. He's leaving me."

Jon just gripped his father tighter. Why did his Pop have to be so stupid? Why did his Dad have to _agree_ with his stupid ideas? Couldn't they see how much of a mistake this was?

They both emerged a minute later, Kurt more or less composed but looking like a wreck and Jon holding his hand for support.

"Hey guys," Blaine said, then took another look at hix ex's devastated expression. "…Kurt? What's wrong?" Blaine asked, anxiety crossing his features.

Jonathan gave his father a bitter look. "You're getting a divorce, that's what's wrong."

"Jonny, don't—" Kurt begged softly, but it was too late.

"WHAT?" Riley shrieked, jumping up. "No, no, no. That's _not_ what's happening here," she said, all attitude and hands on her hips, daring anyone to contradict her. "This is completely unacceptable!"

"Honey, please," Blaine said, his eyes darting back between his husband and son and his daughter. "Calm down. I know you feel this is unfair, but your Dad and I have been moving in this direction for a while and we've put it off long enough. We've discussed it thoroughly and we've decided it's the right decision and the right time."

"I don't want to hear it! This is bullshit!"

Blaine ignored the need to correct the girl's language and continued. "It wouldn't be fair to you or Jon _or_ your Dad if we kept pretending we could go back. That doesn't help anyone. We wanted to do what was best for all of us. In time, this could be a really good thing, if you let it. We have to think positively about this."

Riley's pout took a turn for the worst, her face full of unshed tears as she frantically shook her head in disbelief. She looked over at Kurt and gave him an anguished frown. "Daddy, why aren't you saying anything? Please, daddy. Tell him he's wrong."

"Oh, Ri-ri…" Kurt said, moving in to embrace the girl. She slipped away from his grasp and gave him an incredulous look.

"No! Don't touch me. I don't want a hug from you, I just want to go." She turned to her brother. "Let's go, please."

"Okay," Jon agreed, and grabbed their coats before following his sister to the door and slamming it behind them.

Blaine sighed and got up from the couch. "_That _didn't go as planned," he mused darkly, trying for levity.

Kurt just turned to him. "_Fuck _you, Blaine," he said tiredly.

"_What?_" he snapped, throwing up his hands. "You don't think this is difficult for me? You think I _like_ having to tell my kids I can't come home? Because it's sucks for me too, Kurt, so stop acting like a martyr."

"Well, don't do me any favors, Blaine. You know you've never seen me that way." Kurt moved to the coat rack to collect his things too. "I was always the one ruining things for you, wasn't I? You tell me to move to New York and become successful, I move to New York and become successful and you cheat on me because _I_ can't be there to answer every call. You want to be with me after a show but _I_ have to be the one to say no because I have a job in the morning and a 2 and 5-year-old to raise while you're off signing autographs. I tell you to hang out with your friends and go to parties but then _I_ have to be the one to freak out about it when you do, right? I'm always the ruiner, never the one that gets ruined!"

"Don't even go there," Blaine snarled. Kurt slid his arms into the sleeves of his coat when Blaine catches up and blocks his exit. "It's not fair that you believe everything that goes wrong in our relationship is my fault. I'm _always_ the guilty party. I'm always the one that gets blamed. And you know what, Kurt? I'll let you have that. Because maybe I _am_ guilty. God forbid I want to spend time with my husband—what the fuck is wrong me, I must be crazy! God forbid I want to feel sexy and alive and you can't even be bothered to notice I exist sometimes. That's not frustrating at all, when everyone else in the goddamn _world_ pays more attention to me than my own husband! That makes me feel great, really!"

"Get over yourself. You expect me to be a mind-reader, Blaine. I refuse to try to guess my way around your life when you barely have a clue what you want!" Kurt tried to push his ex aside so he could leave, but Blaine wouldn't budge.

"Wait. You think I don't know what I want?"

Kurt pursed his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. "Blaine, let me through. I've had enough of this. I'm tired."

"No," Blaine said, locking eyes with Kurt before closing the distance between them and crashing his mouth into Kurt's, whose hands flew out to the side in shock. Blaine reached up and cradled Kurt's face in his hands for a few glorious seconds and thought, _maybe this time it will be okay. Maybe we can do this._

Then he realized Kurt's right. Blaine didn't know what he wanted. Not if he was about to throw out everything for no reason. Fuck, they were going to sign divorce papers. They were going to end it all. No, no, no. Riley was right. This was bullshit. What was he thinking? He's was an idiot. An idiot.

"God, Kurt…" Blaine breathed, still too much of a mix of nonplussed and blissed-out by his revelation to do more than whisper his name reverently. "_I love you so much_," he whimpered against Kurt's lips.

He almost felt the sting of hit before he heard it. Kurt's hand burned a mark into his cheek and it did the job—Blaine was awake and confused, his lips parted but no words leaving them.

"How dare you. How dare you kiss me." Kurt was on the verge of tears again, his voice shaky. "How _dare_ you even try to say you love me. After what you did…and with Sebastian of all people." Kurt shook his head. "How can you hurt me like this again, Blaine?"

"Kurt…I…—"

"No, please. No more excuses, Blaine," Kurt said, his voice growing harder and he reached for the door. "You're a pathetic mess. And I deserve someone better." He threw open the door to leave, and almost stopped short as he nearly ran into Riley and Jon on the other side of the door.

Kurt's face broke as he shook his head at them and took off at a furious clip down the hall.

Riley and Jon's stunned faces turned back to their father, who looked just as shocked as they were. "I'm sorry…I can't…" He mumbled before he closed his door and was gone.

They stood there silent for a moment, Riley with tears in her eyes and Jon staring contemplatively at his father's door. Riley turned to her older brother. "Who's Sebastian?"

"I don't know," Jon said. He looked at her. "But I promise we're gonna find out."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Changed some pronouns in the song. The song they sing in this chapter is "Promiscuous" by Nelly Furtado. (I have no regrets. NONE!)

* * *

About three weeks earlier, before Kurt and Blaine decided to have that disastrous hey-kids-let's-get-takeout-before-we-drop-the-divorce-bombshell family meeting, Sebastian stopped by Kurt's office.

"That's funny, I could have sworn they checked this building for rats before we moved in," Kurt said when Sebastian announced his presence in Kurt's doorway while Kurt was scouring some digital design files for next season on his computer. "Do you even work, or just show up at places other people work and drive them crazy? Because I think you've mastered that on a professional level."

Sebastian smiled. "Why Kurt, you know I like paying visits to our favorite Warbler while he's working?"

"I've been married to him for 20 years. Frankly I'd be worried if you didn't know all of his staff have an allegiance to me. Who do you think brings them birthday cupcakes? My spies are all over that building. And a word of advice: don't take anything from Eloise. She _really_ doesn't like you and I'm certain she'll lace your coffee with something undetectable yet undesirable."

"Thanks for the heads-up."

"Oh," Kurt said with a fake smile, "I don't do _anything_ for you. Just I would hate for you to bother the staff when you get sick and can't make it to the washroom in time. I'm just a kindhearted person."

"Well, since we're being honest with each other, Kurt—which I appreciate, by the way—I came here for a reason."

"Continue please. My time, unlike yours, is not unlimited."

"I wanted to confess something in the hopes you use this information to make an informed decision about Klaine's future." Kurt rolled his eyes at the couple name. Ever since Blaine's singing career took off the paparazzi and media latched on to "Klaine," though it seemed to have fallen out of rotation with their friends and colleagues who thought it was weird to call them one name like they were some weird inseparable unit.

But, hey, maybe they were, once.

Kurt was silent as he impatiently waited for Sebastian to continue. "As you know, Blaine and I have grown much closer since we reconnected about a year ago. I wanted to come clean and say that…Blaine and I have become more than friends."

Kurt smirked. "How euphemistic of you. But why should I believe a word you say when I've only ever known you as a liar with a compulsive desire to see me fail?"

Sebastian throws his hands up in defeat. "By all means, don't believe me. I wouldn't expect you to. Ask Blaine and get the truth. Though, I have to say, I have nothing to lose in my admission." Kurt raised a skeptical eyebrow, but underneath this conversation was dragging him down second by second.

"I've already _done_ Blaine, as you would put it, so according to you my conquest is now complete. And, had this been a lie on my part, I could be easily found out in a matter of seconds with one phone call. I would look like a fool. And as you know, I don't like looking like a fool, Kurt." The taller man took another step closer. "I merely thought you'd prefer if I came to you with this information like a man—face to face."

Kurt looked away from Sebastian, not needing to know whether smug satisfaction or a fake pity dominated over that meerkat face. He ignored the burning in his eyes. If what he said was true, Kurt wasn't about to cry in front of this asshole.

"For what it's worth, Kurt, I completely understand your lack of faith in me and I don't hold it against you. You probably assume I'm some nefarious home-wrecker and I guess I can't shake my image. But you know I've always been interested in Blaine. I've never hidden that. We're friends and I'm there for him when he needs it. I usually have no need for kissing and telling but…I did feel bad about the circumstances surrounding our tryst."

Kurt's eyes moved back to the man, a frown on his face but betraying no other emotion. _What circumstances?_ Kurt was dying to ask, but if he knew Sebastian, the man would tell him momentarily. Fucking drama queen.

"As much as you'd like to think I'm evil incarnate Kurt, I wouldn't purposely try to come between you and Blaine. Not to be indelicate, but literally speaking, you remember I offered about ten years back and got turned down. I didn't feel the need to put myself out there again." Sebastian paused and sighed. "Then Blaine came to me one night, upset, you two had just gotten in some argument about a photo. I didn't pry for details, but since then he started relying on me more and more and talking to me way more than we ever did in high school."

Sebastian walked distractedly around the office, seemingly finding it difficult to tell his own story. "Not too long ago he sought me out again and told me you both decided to end it. He said you both were just waiting for the divorce papers to come through and I had no reason not to believe him. He wasn't even wearing his wedding band at the time." He stopped and turned to Kurt with a pained expression on his face. "Believe me, Kurt, I had _no_ idea that wasn't the case."

Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat. He didn't want to ask. He didn't want to know. But Sebastian was right—he had to know. "When did this happen?"

Sebastian sighed. "About seven months ago, some change."

Kurt closed his eyes and tried to stave off his emotions, at least until Sebastian had gone.

Because Blaine and Kurt had still been together seven months ago. Fighting, arguing more than necessary, maybe, but together. And though their relationship did start to deteriorate around that point, Blaine still wore his ring, they slept in the same bed, they even went out to eat with the kids every week to their favorite restaurant.

As if reading his mind, Sebastian nodded sadly. "I only noticed Blaine wasn't telling me the whole story when that _People_ article came out."

Kurt remembered that article well. It was a blurb, really, on a New York celebrity-spotting page, right next to a paparazzo's photo of the two of them, Jon and Riley having dinner in the city.

_"__**Klainer Update!**__ Rumors of a Klaine split appear to be false! We spotted fashionista and former Broadway actor Kurt Hummel, 40, and musician-producer Blaine Anderson, 41, at Sardi's on Friday, having a family night out with kids Jonathan, 18, and Riley, 15. A source close to the talented twosome ensured us all is well with the couple. Looks like there's no trouble in paradise after all for these longtime lovebirds!"_

How wrong they were.

Was that how Blaine got his penthouse leased so quickly when he left? Had he been planning all that while to leave him?

Kurt nodded tightly. "Thank you for telling me, Sebastian, but now please get the hell out of my office before I call security."

.

.

.

Directly after that debacle at their Papa's house, Riley and Jon began text messaging each other constantly. Riley didn't even bring up the you-punched-my-ex-boyfriend feud anymore. Jon supposed they needed more than anything to be allies right now. Petty disputes and sibling rivalry and everything else could wait.

It was nearing on Burt's 68th birthday, and the siblings needed for their parents to reconnect then (if not before—their parents' 20-year-anniversary was next month and come hell or high water, Riley and Jon swore they'd get their parents back together before then so they could celebrate properly).

"What's the game plan?" Riley asked. They were in Jon's one bedroom campus apartment—a shoebox-sized room with a bathroom and kitchenette attached in a building comprised of 99% teachers and 1% faculty and staff. It was nothing like their spacious, comfortable home, but Jonathan was starting to enjoy it for what it was—his own little slice of the world. After being known for so long as "Blaine Anderson's kid," it was nice to finally have something that was his own. "By the way, this place is disgusting. Don't you ever clean?" Riley said, lifting a shirt off the floor and finding a balled up piece of tin foil under it.

"I'm eighteen, in college, and a guy. You do the math." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I'm not sure what the plan is."

"The end goal is to get Daddy and Papa back together before the end of the year and their anniversary. The short-term goal is getting them both to show up to Grandpa's birthday party next week. Neither of those things is going to be easy, but I suggest we start with Grandpa's party because it's coming up soon."

"It may also be a bit more doable if we get some other people involved."

Riley looked curiously at her brother. "Like who?"

Jon smiled. "I have a few ideas. Did you find out anything on Sebastian, super-sleuth?"

"It's been quiet at the house. Dad doesn't talk much, even over the phone. So not much of an opportunity to eavesdrop. I think Dad's afraid I'm gonna yell at him again. At least he stopped bringing his 'friend' Adam over."

"That guy who owns Apple Theatre off Broadway? I always got good vibes from him."

"Yeah, well, that doesn't make him good enough to be our stepfather, Jonny."

"I didn't say it did. I just don't think the dude's a bad guy. There's no danger in Dad hanging out with his friends."

"Are you serious right now?" Riley snapped. "I told you before I found him like, all over Dad that time I came home early. If I came home five minutes later, I'm pretty sure they'd be eating each other's faces."

_That's potentially problematic_, Jon thinks. "I'm sure you're worrying for nothing," he said, even though he knew her worries were in the right spot.

"How about you? Any break on this Sebastian guy, Mr. College?"

"Yep. I just did a generic web search to start. I don't know his last name so I paired it up with Dad's and Papa's in a couple ways to see what I got. There were ten or so different possibilities but only two were gay, so that narrows it down. Sebastian LeCourst and Sebastian Smythe. LeCourst is one of Dad's model friends but he's also only 22 so…I'm not ruling him out but if Papa actually did hook up with him that kind of makes me feel sick."

"What about the other guy?"

"I'm like 90% sure Smythe is our guy. He's almost 40, he works out of Manhattan but travels a lot—some sort of business mogul. And get this: he grew up in Ohio, in Westerville, just a couple hours from where Grandpa used to live and Dad and Papa went to high school. Smythe graduated from the same prep school Papa went to and sang in the Warblers after Papa left. And so I'm pretty sure all three have at least known about each other. Papa has so many Dalton and Warbler stories."

"So it's either Dad's hot young model friend or some old guy from their high school days?" Riley gave him a pointed look. Yeah, longtime friend didn't really seem like an option compared to some kid who probably idolized his gay icon pop-star father growing up.

Jon rolled his eyes. "You know, we could just _ask_ them."

"Like they'd give us real answers." Jon shrugged. "Listen," she continued, "only Dad and Pop know for sure who it is. Unless," she emphasized with a smile, "they told someone. Who would Daddy and Papa tell, if anyone?"

"Unfortunately, Dad kind of keeps these things to himself. I guess maybe he'd tell Aunt Rachel or Uncle Finn…maybe Grandma? I don't see him bothering Grandpa about it since he always is going on about Grandpa's heart and not upsetting it." Really, the guy was old but he looked fine to Jon. "I think in all likelihood he only told that Adam guy that's been hanging around."

"Hmm," Riley thought. "That's unfortunate, because I don't think I could talk to him. And Aunt Rachel and Uncle Finn can't keep a secret to save their lives. But what about Papa?"

"Do you really think Papa would tell someone he cheated on Dad?" Jon replied, the question completely rhetorical. As much as their Dad like to keep his emotions in check and not get too dramatic over unpleasant events if he could help it, their Papa liked to pretend that everything was always okay with him, even when it wasn't. And he was good at pretending, too.

Riley sighed unhappily and sat down on the edge of her brother's bed, falling backward on it and staring at the ceiling. "Why would he do that to Dad? I mean…I was sad about it at first, but now I just want to know why. There's like, no motive at all."

"If we can find out who this guy is, we can subtly ask around and figure out the why. Then we just have to go from there."

Riley huffed. "Well, let's start planning how to get Papa to show up at Grandpa's party." Jon nodded. The girl checked her phone. "I've got to get going soon though, I'm meeting up with Michael in an hour." Her brother stared her down. "What?"

"I thought you broke up with that guy."

Riley rolled her eyes and hopped off the bed. "What's the big deal? We got back together. He didn't even try to sue you for trying to make him eat your fist."

"Yeah, because he's _such_ a good guy."

Riley grabbed her bag by the door. She was not staying if Jonathan was going to act like this. She had enough of him belittling her boyfriend. Enough was enough.

"Yeah, he _is_, actually."

"Ri, break up with him. Please. He's trash. He's only going out with you because you're a famous guy's daughter who's loaded."

"Well I'm glad you have such a high opinion of me that you think I'd willingly date someone like that. Stop being an asshole. Michael cares about me and my feelings. I guess that's more than I can say about you," she said and went for the door.

"Wait—wait!" Jon said, cutting her off. "I'm not one of those crazy overprotective brothers that would hit a guy just for taking an interest in his sister if he made that sister happy. That's not me. You know that. But this guy is ugly inside—trust me."

For a moment Riley looked torn between bitching him out and leaving, or breaking down into tears. Instead she just steeled herself and asked, "Why did you hit him, then?"

Jon closed his eyes. "Because he was saying derogatory things about our parents," he breathed.

Riley shook her head. "No. I don't believe you. He's never said anything bad to me."

"Of course he wouldn't, you'd break up with him. And it's not just that you're some rich guy's daughter, Ri. I'm sorry I said that. You're funny and smart and half your genes come from a freakin' former lingerie model. Any guy in his right mind would lie to keep you interested. But me? Senior year I walked by your lame boyfriend and heard him talking to his friends about his 'girlfriend's famous faggot dads' and how when you two got married he was going to 'sell all their crap' and cash in. He said they were disgusting and that Dad and Papa 'didn't deserve' to have you or their success."

Riley looked down at the floor but said nothing. "He could have been just saying that to save face, but who says all that to their friends? So I confronted them about it, trying to be calm about the whole thing and, ya know, inform them that being inconsiderate ignorant assholes gets them nowhere in life. I was going to walk away, I really was. But then Michael made this crack about me that I really didn't want to repeat because I knew you would not be happy about it. Just know it's the sort of thing Papa would flip shit over and start beating into a guy for. I guess I'm not all that different."

She believed him completely. "Please tell me what he said?" she asked softly. "You know it kills me not to know."

"Are you going to break up with him if I tell you?"

"I was going to when you told me Michael was ugly inside. I didn't even need the details to trust you."

Jon sighed. "'What's wrong, Jonny boy? Did your daddies touch you where they shouldn't and now you're queer too?'"

Riley looked sickened for a moment, but then steeled herself and pushed at her brother's chest. "Asshole," she said with tears in her eyes, "you should have told me."

Jon shrugged. "I guess I thought you'd figure it out on your own."

"Well, I didn't," she said. "Sometimes I just need my big brother to watch out for me and tell me which idiots to avoid."

Jon smiled. "I'm really sorry I messed that up then."

"Don't be, we're fine." She said. "Let's stay focused on the mission at hand. But right now I really feel the need to go crack some nuts, so I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay. And tell Michael I said 'hey," Jon smiled.

"Oh, don't worry, I will."

.

.

.

"You're ring's gone."

"Hm?" Kurt said dazedly, looking down a moment later at his left hand. "Oh. Yeah. I took it off."

"Any particular reason why?" Adam asked, putting the tray down in front of them on the coffee table in Adam's loft.

Kurt shrugged. "It didn't feel right anymore. I'm almost single again, after all."

"Nothing's official yet, though," the man added. Kurt just rolled his eyes.

"What difference does it make? Blaine and I broke up months ago. Official or not, my marriage is over." He looked at the steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of him and wished he could have a taste. But unless he wanted a burnt mouth he'd have to stay away for at least a minute while it cooled.

Adam leaned sat down beside him and draped his arm across the back of the couch, motioning for Kurt to come closer. Kurt's inhibitions seemed to be totally gone as he cuddled into his friend's side and let Adam's arms fold around him and hold him close. "Want to talk about it?"

"I want to talk about my spring line. And next year's fashion week. And going to see_Wicked_ again, and taking Riley shopping for a prom dress, and how excited I am to see the _The Ensemble_ reunion episode next month. Did Claus ever find his birth mother? Did Samantha's snarky daughter ever make it to Hollywood?" Adam laughed, but Kurt just sighed. "But all that fun stuff kind of goes out the window when I think about how excited I was to do most of those things with Blaine."

Adam just held him close and trailed his hand soothingly up and down one of Kurt's shoulders. If he was quiet, if he was patient, if he was understanding, Kurt would talk. And Kurt really needed to talk to someone. He was a ball of anxiety.

"Did I ever tell you about _the photo_?" Kurt asked softly.

Adam's brows furrowed. "I don't believe you have."

"It all started with a photograph in a gay celebrity tabloid," he muttered. Adam waited for his friend to continue. "It was about a year ago. Blaine always gets invited to these crazy industry parties, you know. So-and-so's new album launch, Beyonce's Grammy party—which I went to last year by the way and it was _fabulous_." Adam chuckled. "But I don't go with him to everything. _He_ doesn't even go to everything. But last year he met up with Sebastian again at some party—they kept in touch over the years since high school, I guess. We don't run in the same circles anymore so Blaine only sees him maybe a few times a decade. They talk every once in a blue moon."

Kurt was staring at a far wall while he told the story, detached from his surroundings while Adam just listened and watched his blue eyes drift.

"So Sebastian shows up to the party Blaine's attending and starts plying him with drinks and talking about the old days. And you know Blaine's a lightweight. He starts making an ass of himself at the party—jumping on a few tables, losing a vintage bowtie that cost two grand, getting drunk-flirty with Sebastian."

Kurt paused for a moment and sighed, remembering. "He told me everything he was sober enough to remember the next day, and I didn't make a big deal out of it, because it _wasn't_ a big deal. Sebastian's always been fantastic at feeding Blaine's ego. And drunk Blaine once full-on made out with Rachel Berry so I forgive most of his drunken antics that don't ascend to that level of creepy." Adam chuckled.

"When my publicist shoved the magazine at me the next week, and I see Blaine with one arm around Sebastian…with Sebastian's hand curled around Blaine's hip, and that stupid _smirk_ of his on his stupid meerkat face…it just got to me."

Adam frowned. "But it was…just a picture, right?"

"Hmm? Oh. Of course. At least, then. It was just a picture. But when do tabloids care about accuracy? So the story they ran with that and a couple other photos was exceptionally dramatic, and that's coming from me."

The man sighed. "But still, it got to me. I guess, at the end of the day, I was just pissed off that this is what the world, what other people, got to see. And I was embarrassed. People were going right ahead and assuming things about Blaine or our relationship that weren't true. Not like they haven't before…but this time it was different. And I know you'd think staying together through the heyday of Blaine touring and making music and my stint on Broadway was bad enough. That _was_hard, but we were both wrapped up in our careers. We were young and we were strong—damn what the media says, right? We knew who we were, and that was all that mattered. Besides, everyone adored 'Klaine.' First we were high school sweethearts, then husbands at 21 which the media went crazy over, then parents with magazines hounding us for baby pictures. We were loved, in a way. And for the longest time, things were so easy and natural for us. We didn't worry about what the outside world thought of us. But I guess _I_ did if just one pebble tossed in a lake made as much of a splash for me as a stone in a bathtub."

Kurt looked up at Adam, their faces so close. "Sorry, that was kind of a Burt-ism," he whispered, like it was a secret.

Adam smiled. "I don't mind."

Kurt looked away again, rubbing his cheek into the man's shirt. "Maybe it was the fact the media really hasn't been interested in Blaine and I like that in a while—not our private lives, anyway—and that the barest hint of scandal smells sweeter when it's someone the public admires. We had issues here and there leading up to the photo/story leak, but definitely not more than any other couple. But it just got worse from there…people following me to work and asking me about Blaine, Jon and Riley's names showing up more and more even though Blaine and I did everything to let them have normal lives not harassed by the media. Jon especially hated being compared to his father and being asked if he was going to pursue a music career. We were happy with the way things were, and it infuriated me when all that just dissolved and the peace we had vanished, all over one stupid photo and rumors."

"And maybe," he said, softer, "if I'm completely being honest with myself, there's always been this part of me that felt…I don't know…_unworthy_ of Blaine. When you have a sex god for a husband, there's a fair amount of jealousy to go around. The most incredible, the most handsome men in the world were practically throwing themselves at Blaine back in the day. Still are. And how was I supposed to compete with them? So maybe Blaine's right. Maybe I have always been a little distant. Especially now that I'm getting older and, well…" Kurt just looked down at himself and shrugged, like that somehow explained it all.

Adam put his hand to Kurt's chin and tilted it up to look at him. His blue eyes were stormy and glassy.

"You deserve someone who will run to you and make you feel loved, Kurt." he said. "You always put yourself down and it's ridiculous. Can't you see how amazing you are?" Kurt just shrugged and Adam huffed. "Any guy would be lucky to have someone so brilliant and gorgeous and talented on their arm. They should all be jealous of _Blaine_. And some are. Do you know I don't go a day at the theatre where someone doesn't say 'Is Kurt still with that guy?' 'When's he coming back to Broadway?' 'I want to meet a man as successful and hot as Kurt.'"

Kurt broke out in a laugh and hit his friend on the arm. "Shut up, they do _not_ say I'm 'hot.' Or if they did they said it fifteen years ago."

"Uh, try last _week_, sweetheart. My intern—this adorable 29-year-old guy who wants to work in set design—will _not_ stop talking about you. It's frightening; I think he's obsessed. I haven't even told him I know I interviewed him for the job and he told me he wanted to work in live theater ever since he saw you perform on Broadway when he was 15. 'I want to design sets that compliment Kurt's skin tone.'"

Kurt laughed again. "No!" he said in disbelief. "You are so full of shit."

"I swear on my mother's alive-and-well body back in Essex, I am telling only the truth!" Adam grinned back. "Kurt, have you even ever _heard_ of the internet?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I Googled myself in 2015. The I-hate-Kurt-Blaine-is-my-soulmate chat groups and the tweeted death threats kind of made me swear off anything related to myself and the internet."

"Well, I'm sorry about that. Had I known, I would have made sure you'd only see the best of what people were saying. And they say a lot of good things too, Kurt. People who respect you and admire you and want the best for you. You have so many fans that care about you, not just the clothes you make. You have people out there that truly love you, simply for being who you are."

His voice had gotten soft and earnest, and Kurt's eyes had found his and hadn't let go. "You are a incredible man, Kurt Hummel," he said. "And I would really like to kiss you."

Kissing Adam had felt like entering another world. Not better, not worse. Just different. And nice. And after all the heartache, Kurt deserved something nice.

.

.

.

The weekend after Blaine screwed everything to hell, he went to his favorite exclusive gym and started beating the fuck out of a punching bag. He wished he could just use his gym room at his house, but his house wasn't his house anymore. Kurt probably threw out all his stuff Blaine didn't collect before he moved out. He slammed his gloved fists into the heavy bag and unloaded all the anger and frustration he'd held inside all week.

Fuck. Sebastian.

There was only so many times a guy could ruin your life before you say _perhaps it's best if we're not friends_. Because he sold him down the river. Big time.

He was taking the long trek to the showers, not wanting to wait until he got home to wash off all the sweat and bitterness, as he passed a long stretch of glass wall. Blaine put his hand up to the glass and found it incredibly warm. There was a Bikram yoga class on the other side, winding down, the participants spread over their mats in Corpse Pose. In the front of the class, there was Kurt, laying flat, eyes closed, dressed in tight yoga pants and nothing else, sweat drenched and the muscles of his stomach and chest glistening every time he took a breath. He was stunning.

Blaine couldn't take his eyes off his husband. He was half-hard already by the time the small class started rolling up their mats. He heard the music in the main area of the gym change. It was on a classic club station and Blaine recognized the song instantly as the students started walking out of the classroom, swaying their hips as they caught the beat and the familiar lyrics.

Blaine turned and saw a woman whispering into Kurt's ear and gesturing to Blaine with her eyes. Kurt looked over, but his expression was impassive. When they arrived at the door, Kurt turned to Blaine and gave him a look Blaine had not seen in a very long time, and they jumped right into it.

_"You're looking for a guy that'll treat you right,"_ Kurt started, staring Blaine dead in the eye. _"You lookin' for him in the daytime with the light."_ He swayed on the spot before turning, not watching as Blaine sang—

_"You might be the type if I play my cards right. I'll find out by the end of the night."_

_"You expect me to just let you hit it. But will you respect me if you get it?"_ Kurt rapped, throwing his words back at Blaine as he tossed his rolled-up mat over one shoulder and started walking down the hall.

_"All I can do is try, gimme one chance. What's the problem I don't see no ring on your hand,"_ Blaine added with perhaps a little bite to his voice, following a few feet behind the other man flanked by sashaying yoga students. _"I be the first to admit it, I'm curious about you, you seem so innocent."_

Kurt turned around, walking backward. _"You wanna get in my world, get lost in it? Boy I'm tired of running, lets walk for a minute."_

Blaine was right against him in a second, walking Kurt backwards with his hands on Kurt's hips. _"Promiscuous boy, wherever you are, I'm all alone—and it's you that I want!"_

_"Promiscuous boy, you already know,"_ Kurt sang, Blaine feeling the hot breath on his face, _"that I'm all yours—what you waitin' for?"_

Blaine threw his head back. _"Promiscuous boy, you're teasing me! You know what I want and I got what you need!"_

_"Promiscuous boy, let's get to the point. Cause we're on a roll—are you ready?"_ He turned back around and picked up his pace, drifting through the weight room section where they rapped back and forth at each other from across that distance. Muscleheads were bench pressing weight to the beat in one area, a small swarm of ballerinas were rhythmically leaping into the air in another. Some people doing squats gave that up entirely in favor of just dropping low and dancing close to the ground, a few break dancers cut loose on the mats.

_"Shit, baby we can keep it on the low,"_ Blaine sang, constantly dashing to keep up with Kurt who seemed to be everywhere and nowhere simultaneously in the growing pandemonium. _"Let your guard down ain't nobody gotta know. If you with it boy I know a place we can go—"_

Kurt laughed. _"What kind of boy do you take me for?"_

They moved back into the chorus as a group of hip-hop dancers fell in on all sides, bending their bodies to the beat. Kurt and Blaine were seemingly the center of this little universe as they circled each other with hungry expressions.

_"Don't be mad, don't get mean."_ Blaine sang.

_"Don't get mad, don't be mean."_ Kurt cooed back in a mocking parrot tone.

_"Hey! Don't be mad, don't get mean."_

_"Don't get mad, don't be mean."_

The circle around them breaks, and Kurt slips through. _"Wait! I don't mean no harm—I can see you with my t-shirt on,"_ Blaine rapped, rushing to catch up to the other man.

But it was Kurt that closed the distance between them, teasingly drawing his body up close to Blaine. _"I can see you with nothing on,"_ he sung, his fingers lightly touching Blaine's sides, _"feeling on me before you bring that on. Bring that on…you know what I mean,"_ Kurt sung, undulating his hips against his husband's once for good measure before slipping away again.

_"Boy, I'm a freak you shouldn't say those things!"_ Blaine smirked.

_"I'm only trying to get inside your brain to see if you can work me the way you say,"_ Kurt said, finding the shower area. They'd been heading to the same destination.

_"It's OK, it's alright, I got something that you gonna like—"_ Blaine sang, slipping in through the door as well and finding Kurt standing before a long line of stalls.

_"Hey is that the truth or are you talking trash?"_ He rapped playfully as he backed into one of the open showers. Blaine lost his wife beater. _"Is your game M.V.P. like Steve Nash?"_

Blaine watched Kurt smirk seductively, pulling the shower curtain closed as Blaine sang._ "Promiscuous boy, wherever you are, I'm all alone—and its you that I want!"_

_"Promiscuous boy, I'm calling your name! But you're driving me crazy the way you're making me wait!"_ Kurt called. Kurt had thrown his yoga pants over the curtain in front of him while he sang.

Blaine didn't think as he tore off the rest of his clothes in a furious clip and dashed to the shower screen, his hand lingering in a moment of doubt. _"Promiscuous boy, you're teasing me! You know what I want and I got what you need!"_

_"Promiscuous boy,"_ Kurt's sweet voice called like a siren, and Blaine was sold, _"we're one in the same. So we don't gotta play games no more…"_

The slow beat faded out as Blaine entered the small space and stared down his ex for a long moment before furiously attacking the other man's lips. Kurt had turned on the shower as the fog reached around them and blurred their vision. Hands and heat were everywhere as Blaine pinned the taller man to the wall and began sucking at his neck, collar bone, shoulder—whatever and wherever he could touch.

They slid against each other as their slippery bodies fell together. There wasn't much of a plan except to rut until they both came, which, in Kurt's hazy mind, was perfectly okay. When a moan escaped him, Blaine came back up and covered his mouth with Blain's own and swallowed the sound. "Shhh," he said against Kurt's ear when Blaine's swiveled his hips and drove his dick up against Kurt and making him whimper, "you don't want anyone to hear us." Blaine picked up the pace as Kurt just tried not to fall about right there. It had been so long since he'd last been with Blaine like this, and it felt so good. It felt so _right_.

Kurt could feel his orgasm building and he steadied himself by gripping Blaine's biceps and pulling partially off the wall to grind his cock with Blaine's. "_Fuc-k_," Blaine said brokenly. "You're so hot, Kurt."

"_Blaine,_" Kurt whispered.

They moved together for barely any time at all before they were both coming, Blaine first, shooting across both their stomachs. Kurt felt his eyes roll back as he came, gripping onto Blaine's arms tighter and holding him in place as his hips bucked up against the solid body in front of him, riding out the last waves of pleasure.

They leaned against each other for the longest time, just breathing and touching each other, before Blaine began to suck Kurt's neck once again. Then the man's lips traveled back down, past Kurt's chest and down his torso, licking their cum off Kurt's stomach and hips.

Kurt squirmed under the attention, his dick fighting to get hard again under Blaine's near worshipful tongue. It seems to work when Blaine started licking the underside of Kurt's now half-hard cock, his black curls with flecks of gray matted to his head and his eyelashes dark and long as he took Kurt into his mouth.

Kurt put his hand on the back of Blaine's head but didn't put any pressure on it—just feeling Blaine working himself on his cock was enough, the man's perfect lips stretched thin around him certainly made him want to get off again.

He just wished he could stay in this near-blissful moment forever. Kurt wanted to forget about work, and their kids, and Adam, and Sebastian, and this bullshit divorce, ridding himself of everything except Blaine and himself and this moment.

Blaine pulled of his ex's cock with a pop and started working his mouth back up Kurt's shivering body. He took one of Kurt's nipples into his mouth and began teasing it lightly between his teeth, making Kurt even harder than he remembered being before as he keened a bit too loud not be noticed, but not caring in the slightest. Let people talk. Let them get caught. Fuck other people and what they think.

Blaine's hot breath was back by his ear, Blaine's hands softly rubbing his nipples and down his sides, then sliding them back up and repeating the motion all over again. It was maddening.

"I'm hard again. Wanna fuck you so badly, baby. Please tell me I can," Blaine groaned softly.

"We-we don't have any lube—" Kurt stuttered. He felt so weak already under Blaine's hands, and the idea of _more_ was was an unbearably delicious thought.

"'Doesn't matter. I'd stretch you out and—_fuck—_rim you first. The water'll help." He leaned in and kissed Kurt lightly on his lips, a promise for everything incredible to come, and Kurt was hard pressed to find a suitable objection.

"We don't have a condom," Kurt noted.

"You don't have to worry, trust me," Blaine said.

"Trust you," he repeated.

"Trust me, Kurt. Let me fuck you, please, baby, I need you—_God_, please…" How could he say no to _that? _Could anyone say no to Blaine Anderson and mean it?

"Okay," Kurt whispered. "Okay."

Blaine pressed his lips so tight against his that Kurt wasn't sure where their bodies began and ended. He felt so much a part of that body against him, had known those lips since he was seventeen and every day since. In Blaine's arms, he was home.

Kurt smiled at the shorter man and turned himself around, pushing his hips out. Blaine wasted no time at all finding the other man's puckered hole and began teasing the skin there while Kurt leaned against the wall with one hand and stroked his cock with the other. Blaine sunk down to the probably disgusting shower floor, not minding a bit. He was entirely focused on his objective.

Blaine always loved the way Kurt looked spread out like this—legs placed far on either side of Blaine and his ass jutting out in front of his face. Blaine let his hands fall on Kurt's ass and started to kneed the tender flesh, his thumbs rubbing against Kurt's hole.

Blaine began to work his tongue in and out of that heat, working a finger in and making Kurt gasp out with the sensation, his leg and ass muscles clenching in response. Blaine just grinned against the taller man's flesh as he speared his tongue in and out of the of the man's body beside his finger. It was ridiculous how long he'd gone without his face in this ass.

One finger became two and three, wet with the water and Blaine's saliva they slid easily into Kurt, making him whimper and his legs shake. "Blaine," Kurt whispered urgently, "Please, I'm ready, please…" No one else turned him into such a needy mess like Blaine did.

Blaine pulled his fingers free and bit the man's ass. He hoped, but who knew when Blaine would be able to be with him again.

He pushed that thought from his mind. _Not here. Not now._

Hopping to his feet and trying not to slip on the water-strewn floor, he grabbed his cock and worked it over under the shower before grabbing Kurt's hip and holding him steady as he pushed his blunt cock into the other man's body with a slow determination, rocking in and out gently in increments until he bottomed out, his hips flush with the curve of Kurt's marked-up ass.

"God, move, Blaine. Fuck me," Kurt begged.

Blaine bent his body over Kurt's and grabbed Kurt's ear between his teeth. "Your wish, my command," he said, pulling back out of the tight heat and fucking back down. Kurt turned his head to look over his shoulder, catching Blaine's eyes. Blaine looked absolutely _ravenous_. No wonder he was nipping at his ears and nipples and biting his ass before.

Blaine slammed back in and Kurt's mouth opened but only a shaky breathe came out. "Your ass is mine to bite," Blaine said against his shoulder. Oh, Kurt guessed he said that last part aloud.

Kurt was slowly losing his mind. "All yours," he mumbled, "_Fuck._" When Blaine's hands found his dick and started pumping lazily down his length, Kurt surged back, twisting around and finding Blaine's lips immediately. It was all like a well-practiced dance, each knowing their part perfectly. Blaine hungrily sucked at Kurt's mouth, his tongue, biting down on the man's lower lip and pulling it out to worry between his teeth. Kurt almost thought he could come from that alone.

Blaine found the spot he was searching for, however, when Kurt cried out in wild ecstasy and Blaine's hand flew from the man's dick to his mouth to cut him off. He pounded into Kurt steadily but he couldn't help but find it amusing. His husband was so goddamn loud. "Kurt, _volume control_," he teased with a laugh. Kurt chuckled for a moment but then Blaine sent another shot right against that sweet bundle of nerves and Kurt moaned around Blaine's fingers, taking one digit into his mouth and making Blaine's eyes roll back with the sensation. Damn. This was just too much fun and it was going to end far too soon.

Kurt started stroking his cock again, lose and fast, knowing it wouldn't take him very much to get off now. Blaine picked up the pace as well, hitting hard and fast into Kurt and letting the still-warm water wash over their bodies as he pounded into the ass he knew and loved.

Kurt made a muffled noise around Blaine's fingers when he finally came that, while muffled, was still decidedly too loud to escape notice entirely. Blaine smirked as he fucked in one last time before coming hard into Kurt's ass.

Kurt felt like he was coming down from a cloud. He was well and truly broken. And that was a problem. Because how was he expected to give this up now?

Blaine smiled, blissfully overwhelmed in the wake of his orgasm as he eased himself out of Kurt and turned the other man around so that he was being held in his arms. Kurt felt himself shaking against his ex's body as the man began to sing very softly, "yours are _still_ the sweetest eyes I've ever seen." Kurt would laugh at how sappy Blaine was being, but right now he was having trouble holding back a well of tears. "What's wrong, baby?" Blaine cooed. "Don't cry…" Well, fuck. So much for that.

"I shouldn't have done it." Kurt whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I was just so lonely, I've just been so lonely…" Kurt said. Blaine pulled back, worried Kurt was telling him that what they just did was a mistake. Because it didn't feel like a mistake.

Kurt looked at him sadly. "I had sex with Adam."

Blaine closed his eyes. Five words, and the moment was gone.

"He also…asked me," Kurt whispered, "…to be his boyfriend."

Blaine squeezed his eyes further shut. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. He wet his lips. "What did you tell him?"

"I said…I needed some time to think about it. But…that I wanted to."

It was like having the best dream and waking up to live a nightmare.

Blaine guessed that was why a dream was called a dream.

He didn't say another word, just knew that he had to get out before saying something he would regret and hurting Kurt even more. If Kurt was happy being with someone else, he wasn't going to mess that up. He loved this man. And Blaine already fucked up once by letting him go. Did he really want to fuck up again by asking Kurt to come back only to end his misery?

_I'm too selfish for your love._

Blaine dashed out of the stall and picked up his soaking clothes from the ground, pulling them half on as he made his escape from the man he loved.

_But please don't leave me._

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.

A couple days before their Grandfather's party, they got a break in their case. And it only involved petty theft!

Riley waved some device in the air when she walked into her brother's apartment that afternoon. "You could knock," Jon said, taking his time looking up from the page he was reading. His eyes went wide when he saw what was in her hands. "Is that—?"

"Papa's iSonic? Why, yes it is. And before you start, I'm leaving to return this in a half-hour. So we have to make this quick."

"How did you get Papa's phone?"

"Duh, I'm kinda Auntie Tana's favorite and she makes breaking and entering a pop icon's penthouse apartment alarmingly easy."

"You're only her favorite because you're her spawn, you know."

"Shut it. Aunt Quinn is sweet on you for the same reason. You have no room to talk. But—anyway! Back to business. I only get this thing for a short time and you need to work your weird voodoo hacker magic on it."

Jon took the phone from her without being asked twice. Breaking and entering homes, maybe not. Technology? That was a whole other story. "Oh for the love—his password's Blackbird31511. It's like a cheesy online handle."

They knew the story well by this point, and decided not to comment how stupid silly infatuated his Papa was with their Dad. They only hoped they could still save their marriage. To them, it wasn't a selfish move. No kid wants their parents to split up, but in this case, the breakup was already doing more harm than good. They were doing this for Kurt and Blaine, and no one else.

"Does that mean you got it unlocked?"

"'Course. Let me get to the messages…okay. Here we go. Two different Sebastians in his phone. One of them is not the model. The guy that's not Smythe was last contacted three months ago and the text history…" Riley waited as he pulled it up and scrolled through the history. "A bunch of meeting lunches and recording shop talk about that singer with the huge…voice," Jon decided.

"They're called boobs, but thanks for shielding me from your overt perviness," she mocked. "What about the other guy?" she asked eagerly.

"Calm down. Okay, Smythe. Last contacted…four days ago. Wow, okay. And…" Jon took his time going backward through the texts, Riley looking over his shoulder but not getting the whole story with Jon's speed reading. "Jackpot," he said.

"Let me see!" she said, pulling the device between them and reading the their last text conversation.

_blaine. Pick up ur phone - S_

_blaine. stop blocking my number, let me call you - S_

_gorgeous, please – S_

"Wow, don't they know how to use voice prompt grammar correction?" she snorted.

"They're just old. Read please. This is important."

_stop – B_

_how could you do this to me? I trusted you. - B_

_I thought you were reformed. I thought we were friends - B_

_You poisoned Kurt into thinking we were anything – B_

"Holy drama, Batman," Riley breathed as her eyes continued to scan the words in front of her.

_blaine, I'm attracted to you and you're attracted to me - S_

_you and kurt have been drifting apart for nearly a year – S_

_these are just the facts - S_

"Boo! No one asked you!"

_you never shut up about your marriage woes - S_

_don't you think it's time to move on? - S_

_Sorry if i gave you a push out the door but it was a little white lie, almost true, and i did it to protect you – S_

_it was NOT almost true, you did it for yourself - B_

_and it's not a "white lie" if it hurts someone - B_

_I came to you, drunk and UPSET after an argument with kurt - B_

_I told u I didn't deserve him - B_

_I was fucking miserable and CRIED on your shoulder – B_

"Oh, Papa…" Riley sighed, feeling her heart go out to her dad and only feeling slightly guilty she had broken his trust by stealing his phone. Oh well—not like he'd ever know.

_how could you tell kurt we fucked? You stupid piece of shit – B_

"He lied!" Jon said. "That fucking asshole."

"Jeez, Papa has a mouth like a sailor when he's angry," Riley noted, looking over at her brother and mumbling, "must run in the blood."

_kurt seemed fine with it when i told him - S_

_it made him stronger. Now he's with crawlington or whatever. Let him be happy. - S_

"He means Dad's friend Adam," Jon clarified.

"I'm not dumb; I caught it."

_let YOURSELF be happy, blaine - S_

_please pick up the phone so we can talk face to face - S_

_why would i want to see your face or hear your voice - B_

_you have made my life miserable - B_

_you ruined my marriage - B_

_take some responsibility for yourself - S_

_you ruined your own marriage - S_

_I had very little to do with it - S_

_stop living in your fairytale world, blaine and WAKE UP – S_

_i'm not the villain you make me out to be – S_

"Ugh, shut up Seb-ass-chin!" Riley said.

_No, you're worse, because i keep trusting you and it's like i'm setting myself up to fail every time - B_

_do me a favor and never contact me again - B_

_don't go near kurt, don't talk to ANY of my family - B_

_you've lost the privilege of being my friend - B_

_you'll come around eventually - S_

_don't fucking bet on it - B_

"He lied," Riley said again in disbelief when they were done reading.

"Dad believed it. I don't understand. Even if he figured out days ago, wouldn't they have reconciled by now?" Jon asked. "It seemed like Dad was broken up about getting the divorce and Pop kissed him when they were arguing, so…it's not like it's brain surgery. They obviously _want_ to stay together." _Maybe they think they can't…_Jon thought. And the why that came with it caused too much of a headache to think about.

"Maybe there's a piece we're missing. Maybe Papa figured out what Sebastian must have said to Dad just after Dad mentioned his name. Like, right away. But remember, Dad said 'No more excuses.'" She sighed. "Maybe Papa thought if he said anything, Dad wouldn't believe it anyway. And…Dad sorta called Papa pathetic right before he stormed out. And he said he deserved someone better. Fuck. Jonny—what if that Sebastian guy was right? What if Papa thinks that Daddy moved on to that Adam guy?"

"What if Dad really _has_ moved on?" Jon asked.

Riley frowned. "Don't even say that."

"It's an actual possibility, Ri. You have to consider it. They've been friends for what—like 20 years? And they dated when Dad and Papa broke up that first time. He never came around that often when Dad and Pop were together but they all knew each other. And now he's helping Dad through this breakup…" Jon looked miserable as he made his conclusion, "maybe it doesn't matter that Papa's innocent and that Sebastian lied. Maybe…they're just moving on, and there's nothing we can do to stop it."

He didn't want to cry in front of his sister, so he just held on instead. It worked. He expected his sister to fall apart, though. But instead of an armful of weepy Riley, he got a sharp slap to the arm. "Owww!"

"Jon, we are _not_ giving up. I refuse. And if you won't help me, I will get shit done on my own." She grabbed the phone from her brother. "I'm taking this back now before Papa finds it missing. You can help me or you can just shut up, but when they get back together, _I'll_ be the one to say 'I told you so.'"

.

.

.

_BLIND ITEM:_

_Two estranged lovebirds in the media recently for their rumored split were seen (and heard!) getting frisky at a private gym in Manhattan. Both arrived separately, got steamed up in the shower, and left separately. Hubba, hubba!_

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* * *

A/N: Methinks Jacob Ben Israel wrote that blind item.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: The song Klaine sings in this chapter is "Stay" by Rihanna feat. Mikky Ekko.

* * *

Burt always felt like he was living in a damn sci-fi movie every time he talked to someone on his television.

It wasn't really _on_ his television, but he could make video calls through it just like he'd use that Skype-thing back in the old days to call his kids when they went off to college. And the quality of the calls always made it sound like the caller was in the same room. And that was creepy enough. Burt walked into his living room with a big smile on his face one day, after hearing his wife talking to his stepson Finn in the same room. He found his son nowhere to be seen, except on his television, talking to his creepy.

And Kurt was always trying to talk him into virtual 3D technology—"it's been five years, Dad. It's officially old enough where I can suggest it to you without you giving me the evil eye. I use it at work all the time! Wouldn't it be nice? It'd be like your grandkids are there with you!

No thanks. Burt Hummel moved to New York _just _so he could avoid digitally projected teenagers in his living room confusing the hell out of him ("Why don't you all just come over?"). His eyes were getting old, how would he be able to tell the difference between a pixelated child and a real one?

That day, he had called his son-in-law and watched the man's worried face fill his screen. "Burt," Blaine said, a little surprised. "H-hi. Can I help you?"

"Can't a man call his son-in-law without needing anything?"

Blaine shook his head. "Of course," he smiled. "How are you?"

"Well, I'm a little concerned these days, Blaine."

"Oh?" Blaine asked, feigning ignorance. Of course Burt knew what was going on. Burt had known for months now, and both Kurt and Blaine _knew_ that he knew. It just was silently agreed upon that it would be a strictly unspoken thing—that neither Kurt nor Blaine would be receiving Burt's advice unless it was specifically asked for. And so far, neither had reached out to him for help. He thought it was a little ridiculous, but, his boys were adults now and they could handle themselves. At least, so he thought.

Burt nodded. He didn't want to watch Blaine sweat—he loved that kid—but sometimes a little tough love was necessary to get the job done.

"I'm sorry things haven't exactly worked out exactly liked you'd hoped, Burt—"

"That's an understatement," Burt mumbled, knowing that Blaine could hear his response perfectly well.

"—but there's not much I can do about it."

"The hell you can't. You're only limited by your own fear, son." He sighed as he watched Blaine go a bit red. Time to cut him a break. "But that's not why I called."

"I-it's not?" Blaine asked.

Burt shook his head. "I heard on the grapevine," he said, and pointed at Blaine, "that_you_ weren't coming to my birthday party. I'm not very pleased by this news, Blaine."

Blaine sighed. "You really think it's a good idea, me just showing up to a family event, with everything going on between Kurt and I?"

"You _are_ family, kid." Blaine was silent, but Burt could hear his thoughts loud enough. "Blaine," Burt said, looking the other man in the eyes. "You'll _always_ be my son, no matter what. And as my son I expect to see you at my birthday party with a present for me this weekend, no ifs or buts about it. You hear me?"

"I want to, sir. I just…don't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable."

"You won't."

"What if _he_ doesn't want me there?" Blaine asked.

"Tough. He's got to deal with it. I'm the birthday boy and I've already planned out my guest list. And you're on it."

"You do realize that does absolutely nothing to assuage my fears of making your son feel uncomfortable, right?"

"I really don't care. I'm calling 'father knows best' on this whole mess, Blaine. And a little word of advice you didn't ask for but now I'm giving anyway: whatever you two got going on right now, if it's not worth throwing away more than half of your life for, don't do it. It's that simple."

Burt knew his son-in-law wanted to say something, but there was only so much backtalk Blaine would be comfortable with in a situation as delicate as this, and Burt knew he wouldn't to argue the point.

Blaine simply smiled and nodded.

"I got to go," Burt said, "I'm entertaining some guests now, but I'll talk to you this weekend when I see ya—alright, kid?"

Blaine just laughed tiredly and agreed.

After their goodbyes and Burt making sure he ended the call, he turned to look behind the couch and asked, "did I do good?"

Jonathan and Riley popped off the ground with smiles on their faces. "Just great, Grandpa," Jon said.

"Do you really think it worked? Is Papa going to come to the party?" Riley asked.

Burt shrugged. "Can't know for sure until this weekend, but I think so."

Jon nodded. "I think so, too. He said he wanted to go, he just didn't want to upset Dad. Maybe since you gave him the OK, grandpa, he'll go."

"Don't know what those knuckleheads are thinkin' but they'd better get their act together," Burt mumbled, lost in thought.

Riley sat down next to her grandfather and threw her arms around him without a word. He wrapped his arm around her in response. "Thank you, grandpa."

"No need to thank me. I'm always here to knock you numbskulls back in line. Anytime."

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.

.

It was the day of Burt Hummel's birthday party, and Blaine Anderson was _freaking out_.

Maybe _he_ should be there—his kids were there, after all, and Burt personally called to request that he'd be there. But _Cooper_?

Cooper Anderson was a terminal bachelor with two children living in Palermo with their retired model of a mother and his Sicilian ex-in-laws that he saw every year or so for Christmas. As much as he loved the thought of having kids, raising them proved to be something incompatible with Cooper's personality and lifestyle. He mated with the most attractive woman and produced children that were attractive and genetically his, so, mission accomplished. All that was left was to see if he could star in a non b-rate film playing opposite and making out with Keira Knightly or Natalie Portman before he got too old to score the 'hot dad' roles. Those distinguished older gentleman spy flicks would just have to wait ten more years. Maybe Cooper could try hitting up Kurt and Blaine's successful friend Artie once again—apparently the man was working on another movie musical (this time with screenwriter Noah Puckerman) and his last one had been a hit.

Blaine knew his brother was going to make the situation a thousand times worse—he could feel it.

His brother, however, didn't see it that way.

"Cooper, what are you doing here?" Blaine asked when he arrived at the Hudmel home to find his brother already there. Thankfully his ex and their kids hadn't shown up yet.

"What are you talking about? Burt invited me."

"That was half a _year_ ago when Kurt and I—listen, you have to leave. Please leave. Leave now before he gets here. Please."

"Before _who_ gets here?" Cooper asked, mouth full of finger food.

"Kurt!" Blaine said, exasperated. Couldn't he take a hint? "You know he and I are getting divorced."

"Yeah, but it hasn't happened yet, squirt," Coop said, smirking and patting Blaine's back in what was probably meant to be a reassuring gesture but just came across as condescending and mocking. "Plus, your in-laws love me."

Blaine pinched his nose. "No, my in-laws don't _love_ you. They _tolerate_ you because you're my brother and it would be rude not to."

Cooper seemed not to notice Blaine's objection. "Wow, you really need to taste some of this pastrami."

"Stop. No. I don't want any."

"No, really, it's fantastic!"

"Take your food away from my face. I said I don't want—!"

The front door fell open. "Sorry we're late! Our cab got stuck in traffic and—" Kurt's wide eyes fell on Blaine trying to bat away his older brother attempting to, apparently, force-feed him hors d'oeuvres. _Some things never change._ "Oh—hey," Kurt said, a small, cautious smile appearing on his face.

"Hey," Blaine said back, feeling a bit lighter in spite of himself. He nodded at his kids coming in through the door carrying food and gifts and heading to the kitchen.

"_Heeeey!_" Cooper cried, dashing up to Kurt and tossing his arm around the man's shoulder. "How are you doing, Kurtie?"

Kurt blinked at him. "Um. Fine, thanks, Coop."

"That's great! Hey, quick question: you wouldn't happen to have A. Abram's phone number, would you?"

"Uh, well, I think I might…"

"OKAY, that's enough," Blaine interjected, grabbing his brother by the arm and steering him away from Kurt. Blaine separated them so completely the brothers were at the far end of another empty room when Blaine stopped walking.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Cooper asked, for the first time looking at his brother with curiosity and worry. "I was just making small-talk."

"That wasn't small-talk, it was a business transaction! Do me a favor and just don't bother Kurt tonight. The last thing I'd want is for him to find some reason to hate me. Which might actually happen if you irritate him all night."

"Why would Kurt hate you?" Cooper asked.

"Do you seriously _not_ understand the concept of a divorce?"

Cooper shrugged. "Mine went aright."

"You were only married 36 days. After a week of dating. Of course it went 'all right.'"

"_Hey_, that's a lifetime in Hollywood."

"Cooper, please. Work with me here."

The taller man rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll try to act boring. But Blaine, that might be difficult. I'll have you know that's my one flaw. It's just impossible for me to be be boring."

"Your _one_ flaw, got it," Blaine mumbled.

Things went alright, despite his brother's inability to act "boring." No one really seemed to mind Blaine or Cooper's presence, even though Blaine thought he caught Finn and Rachel giving him doubting looks over the course of the evening. Santana and Quinn came by just before dinner was served, the two women always welcome at the Hudmel home. Finn and Rachel's teenage daughter, Barbara, spent the night trailing after Jon and Riley, who seemed uncharacteristically joined at the hip and unwilling to split their time with their cousin, dodging her at every opportunity and pawning her off on the nearest relative.

Burt appeared pleased that Blaine came after all and gave the younger man a big hug when they greeted each other. Blaine got to talk to Carole a little bit separately and she gave him advice similar to her husband's during their phone call. It was at least heartening to know his ex's parents still liked him, even if he and their son weren't together anymore. And despite the disturbances that night, he allowed the evening to just wash over him, content to just be there with the people he loved. Even if it all changed tomorrow, at least he'd have tonight.

"Think about it, Kurt—me as a serial-killer love interest. Apparently it's a bit of a frightening romance to start, _until_ the woman discovers the only things I kill are body-snatching aliens." Cooper said at dinner, snagging a seat next to Kurt. Blaine sat on his brother's other side and next to Burt. Carole sat next to him on the long table, then Barbara, Santana, Riley, Jon, Quinn, Finn, and Rachel on Kurt's other side.

"You _do_ know Noah's film scripts eventually turn into critically unappealing movies, right?

"Yeah, _blockbuster_ movies." Cooper said happily. "Low ratings are better than no ratings, am I right or am I right? Anyway, blockbuster script plus genius film-maker is a recipe I like."

"I think Artie might like it too."

"So will you give me his digits?"

Kurt smiled. "I'll definitely have him call you if he has a role you'd be perfect for."

"My mom's staring in the revival of the _Sound of Music_ on Broadway next month." Barbara tells her cousins on the other side of the table that couldn't manage to escape her at dinnertime. Thankfully Riley had Auntie Tana to act as a barrier.

"That's nice," Riley said, disinterested.

"Why are your parents not sitting together? My mother said they're not speaking. Are they getting divorced?"

"It's a long story," Jon added.

"Hey, maybe we three could get together sometime and go see a show, then get coffee and hang around Battery Park!"

"No thanks, Broadway's not my scene," Riley said.

"How could you _not_ like the theater? It's in your genes!"

"My Dad also has a strange obsession with cheesecake and coffee and _yet_ I have a strange aversion to cheesecake and coffee. I don't feel the need to be a perfect replica of my parents," she said pointedly.

"Riley, be nice," Carole warned.

By her side, Santana bumped the girl's shoulder and gave her an approving look when Carole's attention was elsewhere.

"Blaine looks good," Rachel noted, whispering to her best friend when Cooper began talking to Burt about an upcoming movie role and Blaine was stuck between them trying to even out the conversation and not overload Burt.

"He does. Your point?" He mumbled back.

"My point is—what's going on between you two? Are you together, are you divorced, are you seeing a certain English gentleman—"

"Who told you about that?" Kurt asked.

"Theatre workers are notorious gossipers. So…?" she prodded.

"So there's nothing to tell, so. Adam and I are just friends."

"Not what I heard."

"Oh my _god_, Rachel would you keep it down? Blaine's sitting right over there."

"I'm sure Blaine's too busy getting his ear talked off by Cooper to notice."

"I wouldn't know what that feels like," Kurt said, giving her a look.

"Kurt," Finn interjected from Rachel's other side. "I think it's time for the cake, bro."

They sung happy birthday, and it was a highly melodic and rich number given the majority of singers in the group, those with average voices singing softly and not straining to fit themselves in the harmony. Except for Barbara, who was trying to outshine them all. Apparently, however, singing well got lost in her gene pool because it was nowhere to be found.

After Burt blew out his candles as they all clapped, he raised his glass. "A toast," he said. People picked up their drinks. "To my family. To the people you start out with who've always been there for you," Burt said, smiling at his son. "To the people you choose, who also choose you," he said, looking at his wife and nodding to his step-son. "To the people _they_ choose who choose them," he said, smiling at Rachel and Blaine. "To the people you never thought you could love half as much as you do because they hadn't gotten there yet," he said, eyeing his grandchildren, "and to everyone else you get stuck with along the way," he said, making the others laugh. "You've all wormed your way into my heart and I am so blessed to see your faces anytime I want on my silly phone TV you won't let me get rid of." More laughter. "Cheers."

"Cheers!" they said, clinking glasses as far as they could reach, Riley faking a smile at her cousin, Finn and Rachel clinking and then kissing long and hard, thankfully halted due to Santana's teasing, and Kurt and Blaine raising their glasses to each other and smiling shyly, looking quickly away with flushed cheeks when they take a sip from their glasses.

Not quick enough. The siblings had caught the whole exchange. Jon peered at his sister. "Get ready to hear 'I told you so,'" she muttered.

"You're going to need my help," he said. "But I think I'm back on Team Klaine."

"Psh, you're in denial. You never left."

.

.

.

Blaine received a call from _US Weekly_ a couple days after Burt's party to remind him about the feature they're running in February for Valentine's. Funny, it felt like the first Blaine had heard of it. Maybe his publicist didn't think to mention it because Blaine would have to turn it down. Sigh. That was it.

Blaine would be lying if he said he didn't know what to expect from the feature. The front page copy pretty much spoke for itself: "More in love than ever! Milestone marriages! Couples renew their vows!" So many exclamation points.

Frankly, he was shocked they'd even offer. They print celebrity gossip—shouldn't they have known better? Then again, perhaps this was just their sneaky way of finding out if everything was hunky dory with Klaine.

"So will you both be part of our couples feature?" the woman asked.

"Actually, we're—" _not together, getting a divorce,_ "undecided about the feature." More like undecided about their _future_.

_Good fucking job, Anderson._

"Well, please call us when you're sure either way!"

"Will do."

Blaine wanted to ask someone for advice. He knew Burt's offer was on the table but that would be too awkward and he wasn't desperate—yet. He couldn't call Kurt or his kids, his Warbler friends hadn't been tuned into the recent drama in his life and that would be a lot to drop on them out of the blue. He no longer believed Sebastian to be worthy of any trust and had cut his losses with the man. He'd rather not bother Sam or Mike with his issues, and talking to Tina was a one-way gossip connection straight back to Kurt. Santana? Quinn?

In the end, he knew there was only one person he needed to call. He'd probably end up regretting it in some way, but even though the man wasn't the brightest, Cooper Anderson had his heart in the right place when it came down to it.

.

.

.

"Don't you both have school or something?" Cooper asked the two teenagers inexplicably in his house.

"Shhh! Pop's calling, pick up the phone Uncle Cooper!" Riley said.

"Put it on speakerphone," Jon added, "but don't talk to us."

"Is that a white board?" he asked.

"Uncle Coop!"

He answered the call and did as Jon requested. The siblings smiled encouragingly at him. Creepy.

"Hey squirt. What can I do for ya?"

"Hey Coop. Um. Kind of have a weird issue I was hoping you'd help me with. It involves free, good publicity, but—"

"Blaine, I don't care what anyone tells you about how great your abs look, the camera adds ten pounds and in porn it adds fifteen. It's not worth the hassle, trust me."

"What? God—no, Coop, I'm not doing _porn_."

"You don't have to sound so high and mighty; it had its perks."

Riley made a face like something she ate disagreed with her.

"Whatever. Just—listen. _US Weekly_ apparently is doing some couples article and they want me and Kurt to be a part of it."

Riley hastily scribbled "say YES!" on the whiteboard and underlined it twice.

"I say go for it." Cooper said, giving a thumbs up to her note. "Like you said, free, good publicity."

"It would only be _good_ if I was still with Kurt. Otherwise there's no story when there's no couple."

Jon added "ask Kurt" to their board.

"What do you want me to say, then? Looks like you're more than just conflicted about some story. You obviously want to get back with Kurt. This may be a fun way to do it. Why not ask _him_ if wants to do the article?"

Blaine sighed. "Why am I even considering this? Shouldn't they just _know_ Kurt and I have split? Why are they interested in us?"

Riley shrugged. Jon mouthed "make something up" at his uncle, but the man waved him away.

"Probably because of that blind item about you guys."

Jon and Riley looked confused.

"What are you talking about?" their father asked.

"Katie and I like to solve posts on the weekends. It's kind of our thing. I told you about Katie, right?"

"No, but I think your new girlfriend can wait. _What_ blind item?"

"Relax, it hasn't been solved. Although they did call you 'lovebirds' so of course almost everyone guessed right. But at the gym, baby bro? Kind of kinky." Jon and Riley were _completely_ lost.

"Oh my god! That's on the internet?!"

"Aren't these things _always_ on the internet?" Cooper asked like it was some great philosophical question.

"Well now I have a reason to call him. He's got to tell his publicist to deny it."

"Aww, come on. You're taking the fun out of it."

"I've got to go, Coop."

"Wait! Little bro, hold on. I'm about to lay some intense advice upon you, so listen up: I don't think you should tell Kurt about the article."

"Yes he should!" Riley mouthed silently.

"I think you should just go ahead and accept the offer. Have them print whatever. If you want Kurt back you have to pull out all the stops just like when you were a kid. Win him back with actions, not words! He'll see you're really serious about your future if you're willing to put yourself out there like that. Go and show the world how much he means to you."

"I don't know…" Blaine sighed. "That sounds like a huge risk."

"Trust me," Cooper said.

"I can see him getting really upset over something like that, even if I confirmed it without his consent and we were _together_. He likes to be informed."

"Do it. I think recent events have shown that you can pull off spontaneous fairly well."

"Oh god—"

"Especially in a public gym shower."

"Coop—"

"Trust me."

"This is a _seriously_ bad idea."

"_Trust_ me."

"Agh, alright. Fine. I'll do it."

"Good. You can thank me for my brilliance by giving me your successful friend's phone number."

After Blaine ended the call with his brother, Cooper looked at his niece and nephew.

"Did I do good or did I do _good?_" he asked cockily.

"I don't think I know," Jon said.

"What was that blind item about? It sounded…was it as suggestive as you made it sound?" Riley asked.

"I would say you're too young to know, but it's more like you're too old not to be grossed out by your parents having sex in public."

"Oh, wow—" Jon started.

"—did _not_ need to know," Riley finished.

"And now you do," Cooper said.

Jon turned to his sister. "At least now we know what the next step is," he told her. "We have a story to sell _US Weekly_, and we need it soon."

.

.

.

Geraldine Andrews liked to think she knew everything that went on in her world. So when her boss decided to do something like this, right under her nose without telling her, she was justifiably affronted by his lack of transparency in the matter.

She walked right into Kurt's studio space where he was busy drafting up new designs for his spring menswear line and said, "Why didn't you tell me you got back together with Blaine?!"

Kurt liked Geraldine. He really did. She was like Rachel Berry but with a better fashion sense, was less pushy and her mind was more grounded in reality. But she loved her gossip a little too much. And while Kurt enjoyed that side of her as well, sometimes—like now—it got more than a little irritating. Especially when she got her facts wrong.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"This!" she said, thrusting the magazine into his hands. "Don't tell me you didn't know. And stop pretending. I think you've milked this drama long enough."

Kurt gave her a warning look. He might have liked her, but not enough to keep her job secure if she didn't watch her mouth. Kurt looked down at the magazine. They were on the freaking _cover_. But how? Why?

Then he read the title. And then the article. He was confused, then enraged. "That idiot!" Kurt said as he tore out of his work room and out of the building entirely.

Blaine was not at work today. He had every intention of going, but after getting a look from his doorman on his way out and then seeing a pedestrian pass by with a magazine in hand, he started to feel a little ill and returned home. It was a very peculiar magazine, at that. One with his face on it.

How did they—? Why—? Blaine couldn't fathom it. He thought this was for a collective couples issue. He thought it was for February. That would have given him months to rebuild his relationship with Kurt, if he could.

He was not there an hour before Kurt was banging down his door. Oh god. Blaine was going to die. He was still too young and pretty to die. He couldn't die. But he had to open that door…

Kurt was _fuming_.

"This—_THIS_—was why you wouldn't sign the divorce papers when I asked you to?" Kurt said, forcibly shoving the magazine at the other man's chest. "Are you trying to make me look like an idiot, Blaine? Do you even know how tacky it'll look when we're not together next month, after this? Because I do! I actively avoid tacky, and this is both tacky and unpleasant!"

Kurt turned and ran down the hall, opening one of the doors and slamming it shut loudly. Blaine winced and then cautiously began to follow him. "…Kurt?" he said when he arrived at his bedroom door.

"…I wanted to slam something but I didn't want to break anything or leave," Kurt said.

"That's very considerate of you," Blaine said through the door.

"I'm still beyond annoyed with you, though."

"Can I come in?"

"Whatever," Kurt replied, and Blaine tried not to roll his eyes.

Kurt was standing in the middle of the room, looking both annoyed and slightly…what? Interested? Hopeful? He at least wasn't putting up more of a fight. Maybe most of his fiery rage died out on the journey over here to bitch him out.

"Before you say anything, I was not behind this, specifically. I don't know who was. I_did_ think they wanted to have a story on longtime couples—emphasis on multiple—in another February issue, but…I don't know. I'm not sure if I gave blanket permission when I said yes. And as much as I want to say I'm sorry for it, I just can't do that. Maybe the idea was a little lame but I'm not sorry that the world at least gets to see how much you mean to me, even if you don't feel the same."

Kurt shook his head. "I don't understand why you would do that."

Blaine took a step toward him. "I love you, Kurt. And maybe that doesn't change anything, or condone anything I've done, but you should know that I never intended to hurt you. I have a tendency of doubting you and doubting myself, and I'm sorry. I always see you as the one pulling away… when you're really been the one holding us together. I guess I just kept thinking—here's someone so wonderful and real and genuine and, one day, he's going to wake up and realize what a huge mistake he's made with the loser next to him, and I'll be alone. So I hurt myself before I gave him the chance to hurt me. But that was unfair. Because when I pull away, the man I love suffers. The people I love most suffer. So what do I do when he decides he's done with me after all?" Blaine asked, misery written on his face.

"Just walk away? Try to start over? _I'm in too deep_, Kurt. I barely know how to function without you, and just knowing you're somewhere out there in the world and not with me, kills me. Because I will always love you, whether you want me or not. And we might be horrendously flawed Kurt, and there are things about each other we can't stand sometimes. But…you're my soul mate. My other half. It's supposed to be that way. You're everything I'm not and everything I want and wish I could be. And I'd be an asshole to try to throw a piece of myself away. And I hope you won't throw us away either. Because alone we may be two random puzzle pieces…but together we're complete. We're perfect. And I'm telling you I'm not ready to give that up. And I don't think I ever will be."

"You _stupid_ man." Kurt said. He had been standing stone still for most of Blaine's speech. "Why didn't you just _say_ that?" Blaine's steady face broke, and he rushed to embrace the other man. They just held each other for a solid minute, so tightly their muscles started to ache with the pressure. "I almost said goodbye to you," Kurt whispered through the tears.

"I almost let you," Blaine said.

Blaine finds Kurt's mouth and kisses him softly. Maybe he was a selfish lover. That's just something Kurt's going to have to deal with. Because there was no way they weren't having _this_ everyday. He wanted to live to make Kurt sigh like he was now, against his lips. He wanted to always feel the press of his body against Kurt's. Nothing felt more right in the universe than when they were together.

He broke the kiss, and looked Kurt in the eyes. "That thing about Sebastian…"

"He lied. I know." Kurt said.

"How?"

Kurt smiled. "Apparently our daughter had the inside intel on Sebastian's scheming. She told me she had irrefutable proof. That was all I needed to hear to believe Sebastian was up to no good. I've been a skeptic for less."

God, it felt so good to just _hold_ him again.

But.

"And…Adam?" Kurt bit his lip.

_No, Kurt. Please don't tell me this was all for nothing. Please._

"He'll always be special to me. But he doesn't have my heart. He understood."

Blaine grinned. "Remind me to send him a fruit basket."

.

.

.

"But shouldn't you be in school?" the man asked.

Riley rolled her eyes.

"We're here to see our father, Octavio. Can't you let us through?" Jon asked to the doorman who was now shaking his head.

"Not a great idea, kids. Your other father just came through not an hour ago. He hasn't left yet. They're either fighting it out at the moment, or…" he said, letting them fill in the blank.

"Hmm," Riley turned to her brother. "As much as I'd really like to get that 'I told you so' out of the way, how about I just text you when Dad gets home and I get the story from him?"

Jon smiled. "I have to study for that _Ancient Languages_ final anyway."

.

.

.

Never underestimate Kurt Hummel's ability to plan a party in a time crunch. Two weeks until his his 20th anniversary and in the middle of holiday madness, he managed to pull some strings and secure a small venue for a very special New Years Eve party, where he and his husband would renew their wedding vows in front of an impressive RSVP'd guest list of friends and family.

Even Mercedes and Marley took time away from their _Dual Divas_ tour to come to the event. Everyone was dressed to the nines, per Kurt's explicit dress code instructions, and Cooper was elated to finally get his reward for his superb life advice to his brother, spending the entire evening pushing Artie's chair around and sucking up to him. He tried getting cozy with the actress Tina Cohen-Chang, but then her husband had to come by and stare him down. Whatever.

Blaine's parents flew in from Columbus, as did a couple of cousins. All of the original New Directions members were in attendance, as well as a majority of the other former McKinley students that hadn't been in school when Kurt was there, but who had made a lasting close connection with their former leader, Blaine.

Wes, who had returned in his adult years to reign over Dalton Academy as headmaster, asked the couple if the new Warblers could perform at the ceremony.

"That would be seriously amazing," Kurt said over the phone as they planned the teenagers' trip.

"I think you'll both love this group. They've very special."

"I bet you go to every single performance, don't you?"

"One-hundred percent guilty," Wes admitted fondly.

The singing teenagers appeared after Blaine and Kurt had renewed their vows and started in on their second first dance. The familiar a capella tune warmed their hearts immediately. They didn't mind when the attention turned from them to the group of singers—perfect opportunity to make out in front of a huge crowd of people. Blaine wasn't about to let that opportunity pass.

Then a boy stepped out of the bunch and started to sing. His voice was pleasant and harmonious, but nothing extraordinary. Still, it brought a smile to both their faces watching the boy sing a song that was so close to their hearts. _"Never knew I could feel like this,"_ he sang. _"Like I've never seen the sky before…"_

Blaine pulled his husband closer. "I'm sorry," Kurt whispered to him. "I should never have let things get to me the way they did, with all that media nonsense, and Sebastian…I should have trusted you."

Blaine shook his head. "You don't need to say anything. I know. And it won't happen again. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks or says, right? It's about us, and what we want."

Kurt smiled. "This has been the craziest year."

"At least we got to test out how long the hot water lasts at the gym…"

"Well, we both agreed that will _never_ happen again."

"I don't know," Blaine said playfully, "I think we need to get another divorce, then, if that means we can have a repeat performance. _Baby we can keep it on the low…_" he sang softly into his husband's ear.

"Blaine, I am not above spousal abuse at this moment," Kurt said, trying to hold back a laugh and failing.

As the first soloist's turn came and went, another boy appeared to sing beside him._"Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place."_ He was no Kurt Hummel, but when Blaine's attention turned to the stage, he could tell he was something special at least to his duet partner. _"Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace."_

_"Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste,"_ they sang. Kurt gave his husband a knowing look.

"I think we're witnessing a moment," Blaine said as the two boys locked eyes and sang to each other.

"Mm," Kurt agreed. "Young love. And they're all so little and adorable, I just want to pick them up and put them in my pocket and take them home."

"Teenage boys aren't puppies, dear." Blaine laughed. "Plus you can't even fit your phone in your pocket."

"So you know, that's strategic, not a design flaw."

The boys rounded off their number, and quickly the melody changed to another familiar song. The two boys retreated into the group and another boy stepped forward. This one had a voice like honey and had to be one of their lead vocalists.

_"Here we go again, I kinda wanna be more than friends,"_ the boy sang as Kurt and Blaine's friends and family started to pour onto the small dance space, Mike spinning Tina into his arms and Sam and Brittany doing some absolutely mystifying dance moves that sent the others laughing. _"So take it easy on me, I'm afraid you're never satisfied,"_ the boy said, dashing across the stage and making eyes at the beautiful young ladies in the audience. Another boy stepped away from the pack and swept off to the other side, doing the same. _"Here we go again, we're sick like animals, we play pretend. You're just a cannibal and I'm afraid you're never satisfied…"_

The boys moved into the chorus as the crowd jumped up and down happily. _"Oh, oh! I want some more! Oh, oh! What are you waiting for? Take a bite of my heart tonight!"_

Riley bounced along next to one of her classmates, giggling at the boys on stage, especially the one that appeared to be singing just to her, his eyes falling back on her with every other line.

Jonathan was hanging out by the buffet table, nodding along to the entertainment a little as he shoved the food from his plate into his mouth.

A beautiful older blonde woman came up beside him and smiled kindly. "Hi, Jonny."

"Hey, Aunt Quinn," Jon managed to get out with a full mouth. "How're you?"

"Just a heads up, baby—that girl over there?" she said, nodding her head to her left, "has been looking at you _all_ night." He casually looked over at the girl and sighed. She was beautiful.

"I know I talk a good game about wanting a girlfriend, Aunt Quinn. And I don't want come off conceited, but…I don't _actually_ want to date girls. Most of them are barely interested in me. Just what's on the outside. And I feel flattered that one of Dad's model friends is checking me out right now, but I'd rather feel _proud_ instead, to be with someone who thinks I'm something special on the inside, too. You know?"

"I can understand your hesitation." Quinn said with a smile. "I was once that girl who played with guys' feelings simply because I knew they'd look good on my arm. But then I grew up, and realized what was really important. Just know there's hope for us all." She reminded him.

"Also, I happen to know she is _not_ one of your Dad's model friends." Jon looked at the woman curiously now. "She's my interning assistant at the hospice care center," Quinn said. "She's 19, lives in the the Bronx, and is going to school for psychology and social work. Her name's Jaye. She even graduated from high school a year early. Very bright, very sweet girl. It's a _shame_ you're not interested. I've already told her so much about you." Quinn sighed. "I guess it's just as well. The girl has this seriously nerdy obsession with robot movies. She never stops talking about _Short Circuit_."

Jon felt like he was about to have a panic attack. He was pretty sure his aunt had just described the perfect woman. "Do you think it's too soon to propose?"

Quinn laughed. "Maybe. But not soon enough for you to get your butt over there and introduce yourself."

Jon was full of nerves but that didn't stop him from taking the woman's advice.

On the other side of the room, Adam stared at the happy couple on the dance floor, spinning in and out of each others arms and laughing. He couldn't fault his friend for getting back with his ex, especially after seeing him and his children so happy. Kurt and Blaine just fit together. So much so it felt silly to have pushed Kurt into something he was not ready for again, even if it felt right at the time. But, apparently, Blaine couldn't blame Adam either for trying to take that chance.

"Hi," a voice said by his left. The man turned to greet the voice with his usual friendly smile. The man—boy, really—standing next to him was just an inch taller than he was, thin yet fit, and wearing a well-fitted suit that Adam recognized as one of Kurt's designs. "Can I get you a drink?"

"It's an open bar," Adam said with a question in his voice, like the man should have known better. "Thanks, though?"

"Oh. Yeah…alright," the man said, looking very flustered. He was quite good-looking, had to be one of Kurt's runway models—his face appeared to be chiseled from a block of stone, yet his eyes were a soft, pale green. If it wasn't for his age, Adam wouldn't have had to discourage him like he did. But now he was turning away, so all wasas it should be.

"No, wait," he said. Adam looked to the other man in surprise. "I didn't come all the way over here just to get shot down. You're Adam Crawford. I respect the hell out of you, and I'm getting you a drink, damn it."

Adam just had to smile at his determination. "You know just because the drinks are free doesn't mean they won't card you."

The man rolled his eyes, and made him look more like a petulant child than anything. But…it was also sort of adorable. "I'm 23 as of last week so thanks for assuming incorrectly."

"Since you know who I am I assume you know I'm old enough to be your father."

The young man smiled. "But you're not."

Adam patted him on the shoulder. "Thank you anyway, but I'll pass. I'm sure there are plenty of other, _younger_, men here who'd love to spend a little time in your company. I wouldn't want to keep you from them."

"Listen, I've had a crush on you forever. So if you're not going to let me get you a free drink, the least you could do is humor me with a dance."

Adam pondered for a moment, but then reached out his hand towards the other man. "I have to have your name first. It's only proper."

A huge smile cut across the man's face. "Sebastian. LeCourst," the young man said as they made their way to the dance floor. "I do high fashion runway, for the moment. But my dream is to be on Broadway. And I really _do_ admire the hell out of you."

Adam laughed. "And _you_ know I don't sleep with anyone I work with because it's highly unprofessional, right?"

The man blushed, but saved himself well. "Good thing I have no desire to sleep my way to the top. I could avoid working with you at all cost, if need be." Sebastian put his arms around the older man, even though the teenage singers were working with an old, upbeat pop tune at the moment. "Even though, I admit, I've always wanted to work with you."

"How about," Adam said, "You do. And we can be friends."

Sebastian scoffed at that. "Friends," he said. "Like guys want to be _friends_ with me. My ex-boyfriends didn't even want to be friends with me when we were dating."

"I will be your friend," Adam said earnestly. "And then, when you're at least a quarter-century old, I'll let you by me a drink."

Sebastian groaned, annoyed. "But that's so long!"

"Young man, patience is a virtue," Adam teased, and Sebastian laughed.

"Maybe you're right."

When the new Warblers had finished their set, suddenly everyone was cheering. Kurt and Blaine looked up and saw their old Warbler friends pouring in from all sides wearing Dalton uniforms as Nick began to sing: _"Right, right, turn off the lights! We're gonna lose our minds tonight—What's the deal, yo?_"Blaine laughed as a bunch of old New Directioners came on the stage as well, overwhelming it as they, too, started to harmonize and sing with the group.

"This is awesome!" Blaine said, clearly overwhelmed by the display. "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen!"

"Calm down, honey," Kurt said, though he was overjoyed by his husband's delight and so very glad he had suggested this team up of epic show choir proportions. Blaine had seen so much in his life so far—sold out theaters full of screaming fans,_SNL_ cast members impersonating his piano-jumping stage antics and over-the-top costuming. He even performed at the Grammys and the Superbowl and a Democratic national convention. He's toured the globe, seen the wonders of the world. And yet here he was, saying some guys in their old school uniforms and some party-goers singing an old Pink song together was the coolest thing he'd ever seen. It was adorable. "I'm glad you like it."

Riley was also glad her Papa's old school friends decided to jump on the stage and sing. The cute Warbler that had been eyeing her had just gotten off the stage and they started getting into a seriously intense discussion about their tongues in each other's mouths. It was a very good discussion.

When they broke for air, the boy introduced himself as Tyler and after Riley gave her name, they went right back to it.

It only lasted another minute or so before she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Oh god," she said when she turned around, "you're not going to punch him, are you?"

"W-wait, what?" Tyler said nervously, looking at the older boy.

"No," her brother smiled. "And I didn't come all the way here to disturb you. I was just torn out of the arms of my future wife, myself." Riley quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. "Ri, I was hoping you'd be up for one last mission. Dad and Pop recruited me."

Riley groaned. "Does this involve singing? I don't have to sing, right?"

Jon shook his head. "But we need some intel first. Hey guy," Jon turned to Riley's new friend. "What can you tell us about your duet-singing friends?"

"Oh, they were so cute!" Riley said. "Totally in love, right?"

"They're not together, actually," Tyler said.

"What?!" Riley exclaimed.

"Figures. Papa saw them standing across the room, _really_ trying not to look at each other."

"But that's insane. How can they not be together?"

Tyler rolled his eyes. "They have issues."

Riley scoffed. "Well, they won't after tonight. You're right, bro. This is totally my thing. You take Warbler gay one and I'll take Warbler gay two. I assume our fathers are going to sing some sappy duet in a minute and we try to get them to dance?"

"Seems like it."

.

.

"Why don't you dance with him?" Jon asked the tall brunette, nodding toward the blonde boy he had sung with earlier, now standing and talking with his sister.

"It's a long story."

"Isn't it always?"

.

.

"He _has_ a boyfriend," the blonde sighed.

"Well that boyfriend's in trouble because tall dark and handsome is either the best actor in the world, or he's head over heels in love with you. And it's definitely the latter. My psychic half-Mexican third eye is never wrong."

"What?"

"Just trust me."

.

.

"If I ask him to dance, he'll just turn me down anyway."

"Why? Seemed like he was pretty into you," Jon said.

"No offense, man, but it's complicated."

.

.

"Matt's my best friend." The blonde boy said. "Or _was_ my best friend. I just moved back to Westerville with my mom…"

.

.

"I haven't seen Liam in years. We met when we were like, four years old. He moved away with his parents to South Carolina when we were in the 6th grade. I didn't even know I liked guys back then. But he was always special to me."

.

.

"When I came back…I always knew I liked Matt. He never knew, though. And we hadn't kept in contact for the longest time—"

.

.

"—but I've been with my boyfriend for the past couple months, and he's…not too bad. But ever since Liam came back I've had these, like, _crazy_ feelings. And I know he does too."

.

.

"And I know he'd give up his boyfriend in a heartbeat for me." Liam sighed. "But I'm not letting him. He kind of despises me for it."

"Why don't you let him?"

.

.

"He's sick. I care about him, healthy or not. But he just…he won't let me get close."

Jon hummed. "I know it's kind of indelicate to ask but…how _sick_ is he?"

.

.

"What do you got?" Riley asked.

"Cancer," Liam said. "Inoperable tumor. Kinda. If I undergo enough radiation therapy in the next few months they can shrink it and then operate. It has a really good success rate. But I'm so tired all the time…I can barely go to any Warbler's competitions. I don't get out of bed for half the week. And even if I go into remission and stay in remission, I'm always going to be weak. He only sees me as his friend who's not as sick as he looks, and that I'm going to be fine. But there's no guarantee I will. I don't wan't him to see me sick. I don't want him to see me dying, if it comes to that."

.

.

"I'd be with him regardless. I don't care. And the more I say it the more he pushes me away. Tells me to go be happy with my boyfriend, that he might not be around. Like it's just that easy to forget him. I tell him all the time life's not worth it if you're not with the person you love, but—"

.

.

"No offense, Liam, because it seems you have enough on your plate right now. But this is your moment. It's literally about to be a New Year, full of hope and new beginnings. You've got to at least try to live your life the way you want. And are you telling me you'd be happier without him in your life? Because from here it looks like you waste so much energy keeping him away."

.

.

"You can't take no for answer, Matt. If you love him and he loves you, you have get in his face about it. Show him rather than tell him you're not going anywhere. That you're unavoidable and you won't be pushed away."

Jon could hear the music changing on the stage, and knew that it was time.

"Looks like you're about to get your chance. Don't blow it."

.

.

.

_"All along it was a fever,"_ Kurt sang into his microphone. He sat on the piano bench beside Blaine playing the song. _"A cold sweat hot-headed believer. I threw my hands in the air and said 'show me something,'"_ Kurt said, looking back at his husband. _"He said 'if you dare come a little closer.'"_

Matt knew there was very little chance he was going to get Liam to dance with him—but he had to try. _"Round and around and around and around we go."_ They were at Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson's anniversary party—they were performing a song together right now on stage. This had to be a sign. _"Oh tell me now, tell me now, tell me now, tell me now you know—"_ It was now or never.

_"Not really sure how I feel about it, something in the way you move makes me feel like I can't live without you. It takes me all the way. I want you to stay…"_

"Oh—God, okay, he's coming over here," Liam mumbled. Riley just rolled her eyes and pushed the boy out into the crowd until the two Warblers met somewhere in the middle of the dance floor as Blaine began to sing:

_"It's not much of a life you're living. It's not something you take, it's given."_

Liam took a breath. Matt smiled at him nervously.

"I don't know this song," he told the other boy.

"Me either, but it sounds nice."

_"Round and around and around and around we go,"_ Blaine sang.

"Matt—"

"Liam—"

They laughed.

_"Oh now, tell me now, tell me now, tell me now you know."_

"Wanna dance?" Liam asked.

_"Not really sure how I feel about it—"_

"Really?"

_"Something in the way you move—"_

The blonde shrugged. "Yeah, why not?"

_"Makes me feel like I can't live without you, it takes me all the way,"_ Blaine sang as the two boys joined hands and walked closer to the stage. _"I want you to stay…"_They started swaying together to the beat, and Riley smiled. _Good job, dads_, she thought.

_"Oooh, the reason I hold on,"_ the couple sang together now. "_Oooh, I need this hole gone. Funny you're the broken one but I'm the one that needed saving. 'Cause when you never see the light it's hard to know which one of us is caving…"_

They repeated the chorus softly and stared at each other while they did, the couples on the dance floor holding each other tightly and watching the pair on stage. Jon found his way back to Jaye. Adam and Sebastian's one dance together had turned into four. Riley found her sexy Warbler and they rushed away to get some privacy, though Auntie Tana ended up staring them down at the exit, knowing their plan, and they opted instead for a mostly-secluded corner to make out in. Matt held Liam tightly as the husbands on stage finished their set.

When the clock struck twelve, it really was a new year.


End file.
